#one of the librarians came up to me and told me it’s a slow time around 10
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I don’t think I’m autistic, I think I either have such low confidence in my judgement that I just trick myself into thinking I can’t tell what other people are feeling or such low confidence in myself that automatically think the worst
#like first day volunteering as a computer tutor (didn’t go as well as I hoped but it’s the first day and I’m rusty)#one of the librarians came up to me and told me it’s a slow time around 10#were they annoyed that after 15 min I took a scrap of paper and started drawing?#did they think I was bored#am I reading too much into it#probably idk#personal#this is my diary go away
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She’s Not Mad
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience!
Masterlist
A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk.
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had.
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.”
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?”
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.”
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word.
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer.
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late.
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question.
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees.
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you.
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from.
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table.
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table.
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times.
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?”
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.”
“You’re calling me a liar?”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.”
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions.
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child.
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.”
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.”
And he did.
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place.
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked.
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house.
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap.
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again.
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often.
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important.
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.”
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle.
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone.
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door.
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.”
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward.
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered.
He walked you back home and cheered you up.
Just like he said he would.
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse.
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless.
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong.
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you.
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view.
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you.
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants.
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms.
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you.
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more.
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game.
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment.
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment.
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now.
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again.
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response.
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.”
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip.
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.”
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded.
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder.
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall.
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.”
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up.
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.”
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?”
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs.
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you.
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to.
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you.
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder.
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table.
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots.
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why.
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass.
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom.
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.”
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend?
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.”
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup.
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing.
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night.
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying.
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him.
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids.
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back.
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb.
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you.
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep.
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it.
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him.
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours.
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted.
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly.
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage.
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down.
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look.
And my god was it worth it.
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear.
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed.
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around.
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him.
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more.
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat.
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers.
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully.
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from.
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV.
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game.
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck.
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.”
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?”
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.”
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand.
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.”
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this.
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.”
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset.
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.”
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?”
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well.
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him.
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it.
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you.
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time.
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it.
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him.
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day.
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser?
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either.
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place.
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later.
You: sure, it ends in an hour.
Bucky: I’ll be there.
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there.
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out.
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible.
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?”
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?”
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?”
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?”
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense.
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.”
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt.
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?”
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?”
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?”
“Then what were those condoms for?”
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light.
“Oh,” was all you could say.
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.”
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.”
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?”
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.”
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands.
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you.
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong.
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back.
“I’m all good,” he shrugged.
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him.
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how.
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world.
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed.
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door.
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.”
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say.
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.”
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before.
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?”
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken.
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up.
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it.
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?”
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes.
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?”
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest.
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.”
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry.
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you.
“You’re very safe,” you whispered.
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you.
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.”
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going.
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.”
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.”
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.”
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.”
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension.
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair.
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep.
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close.
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done.
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you.
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing.
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered.
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?”
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen.
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it:
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
Thanks for reading, feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!
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Life Blood Part One
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8ecabc19ba1e50ec777d68216385a697/235d05e1e44ccf3e-f0/s540x810/5aaef240c06dc1360b98d9cc39a736f80e6a8c4a.jpg)
Vampire Garreth Weasley x F!MC
NSFW 🔞 vampire violence, adult themes
This week's Weasley Wednesday theme in the Garreth's Groupies Discord: Halloween 🎃
This is an AU world where Garreth is a vampire. Old, dangerous, and very beautiful. He stalks a lovely librarian who has a secret of her own.
The shadows had become his friend over the years, his shield and his comfort, a cloak to cover his footsteps and hide his truth. Cities had many shadows, dark corners, and sinister alleyways that provided fruitful hunting grounds, opportunities to stalk and watch for the next feed.
For there was always the ravenous hunger, the dark and desperate need to satiate the craving for blood.
His awakening to his dark form had been a terrible and agonising horror that had ripped apart everything he had known about himself. Once a soft and innocent boy, his nature had transformed into something harder, darker, and instinctive. To truly be at one with this transformation, it had taken many years and the guidance of the one who had turned him.
Time had stretched, days were mere nothingness, now a drop in the ocean in his immortal life. It been a long time since he had seen his sire, no longer in need of the guidance, able to glide softly through his days and take what he needed with the blink of an eye and stolen whispers.
The vampire thought he had forgotten the boy he had been.
His eyes glittered in the darkness, the shadows no barrier against his sharpened sight. The mossy green of his eyes darkened and flickered with red, the pupils widening into dark orbs of hunger as his nose delicately picked up a scent. He paused and pressed up against the old brick of a building, ears trained for the sound of approaching steps. The scent carried on the air, filtered through the wafts of trailing mists that drifted from the old river. It teased at his nose, the steady warmth of its pulse making his mouth water, and the familiar ache in his gums made him press his lips together in anticipation.
It was a male. His scent grew stronger as he made the turn into the narrow passageway, the hint of sweat and alcohol combined with that heady, bitter call of his life blood. His footsteps staggered a little, and he cleared his throat. Drunks were not ideal, and neither were the sick, but when opportunities wandered so freely into his path, the vampire was not going to waste it.
As the figure of the man came into view, the vampire licked his lips, eyes narrowing as the blood lust flared with delicious heat. He stepped out from his shadow, steps silent, his hand reaching out to connect with the drunk man's chest. The steady thump of a heart beneath his clothing seemed to clash against the vampire's palm, the life force of a delicate human body. It fascinated the vampire. He could no longer recall how that felt. He had forgotten that warmth and the desire to feel it tingled on his tongue.
The gentle glow of moonlight lit their faces, the drunk was flushed and grizzled, a working man if his ruggedness was anything to go by. The vampire, in comparison, was immaculate in a suit, skin pale and dusted with delicate freckles, his hair a shiny golden red, the waves framing his eerily handsome face. The vampire was the image of a cultured gentleman, soft and alluring, but the eyes told a different tale. His hunger made a mockery of that soft imagery, deep and insatiable, his age adding a depth of wisdom to his powerful allure.
"Wandering alone in the dark?" The vampire spoke softly, a hint of amusement underlying the colder edge to his tone. "Tut, tut, sir. Have you not heard? There is a predator on the loose."
The drunk swayed on the spot, squinting through the darkness with his mortal eyes, his hand coming up to try and push away the vampire's cold touch and failing.
"What? Get off me," he slurred. "Fool."
The vampire tilted his head, the movement slow and deliberate as his mouth turned upwards in a knowing smile. Oh, how beautiful was his smile.
"It is not I who is the fool."
In a movement that was more of a blur, the vampire grabbed the front of the drunk's coat and pressed him to the wall, ignoring the mutters of complaint as he dragged back the collar to reveal flesh, the flutter of a pulse a vivid thing, and he bit deep. Sharp teeth broke through the sweat laced skin with ease, and immediately, the warm blood began to pulse onto the vampire's tongue, his eyes rolling at the delicious sweetness that tingled through him. He sucked with a ravenous hunger, drawing deeply despite only feeding a short while ago.
It had only meant to be a taste. A little snack if you will. But all too soon, the drunk became limp in his strong grip, the ruddiness leaving his skin, his pallor becoming a deathly white.
The vampire lifted his head, blood shining on his lips, his teeth bared as he breathed deeply in satisfaction. One look at the drunk told him he was dead. His body drained, his heart left with nothing.
Once, the vampire would have been overcome with guilt, he may have even sobbed at his actions. But the years had conditioned him to bear these burdens easier. The guilt was there, but he stored it away. Needs must and all that.
However, the vampire was not completely without morals. He set the man down gently. He straightened his jacket and put a gentle hand to his cheek. Perhaps someone would miss him, grieve for him. The vampire hoped so. But these were not his problems.
As he stood, the vampire took one last look at the victim's face and stored it away. He always took a last look. Then, he returned to the shadows. There were a few more hours of night time to wait through before the dawn, and he needed to make a regular stop.
He needed to go and see her.
....*....
In the six months of lingering in the shadows of the city, it had been easy to memorise the many twists and turns, the busy streets and local hot spots. Without the need for sleep, he had the time, and he had been to so many cities in the world now that he was beginning to realise that they were similar in lots of ways.
There was the theatre district, a plentiful delight of a place, the nights always busy with a myriad of scents to tempt his hunger. Taking in a show amused him, and he would peruse the gathered audience and pick out the ones that tempted him. The arrogant man with Daddy's money burning a hole in his pocket was a favourite, or maybe the lonely woman with tragic eyes. He was always drawn to those. Once, he had wanted to soothe them, take away the sadness in their eyes, but the hunger always won out in the end, and he would feed with ravenous abandonment.
The docks were often a good spot for a stranger to draw a feed from, travellers far from home that would not be missed so quickly. It was best to avoid the more opulent parts of the city, as satisfying as it was to drain the life out of a stuffy politician, they were easily missed. The vampire only took these risks when he was feeling particularly reckless or angry with his lot. Luckily, these episodes were few and far between as time progressed.
When he had been a young creature of the night, he had frequented hospitals and jails, taking the lives of the sick and the unworthy. His sire had mocked him for his kindness and urged him to embrace the beauty of what he had become. The vampire had resented this sentiment, and while the blood of the sick was not satisfactory, the vampire took it and suffered the bitter taste in order to bear the burden of his sorrow. Again, the appetite he harboured always craved more, and his hunting grounds had expanded. Slowly, he had begun to embrace who he was.
One area of a city that drew creatures of the night was the taverns, or pubs, frequented by whores. These ladies of pleasure were also creatures of the night, used to slake the lust of others. It may not be a feed of the blood letting kind, but it eased a hunger of sorts.
The vampire recalled his first whore as he moved swiftly through the shadows across the city. She had been young and beautiful, eyes dark and tempting as she offered him her body. The tease in her gaze had turned to cold fear when realisation had struck. The horror she had felt in those last moments had weighed heavy on the vampire, even though the thrill of her sinful blood had warmed him wonderfully, his own body still flushed from the sins of their joined flesh.
He had never forgotten her eyes, and had stayed clear of feeding from whores unless the need was desperate. After all, like himself, they had not chosen their nightly lifestyle, it was their only option. The men who went to them were often foul and disgraceful. The vampire was not above waiting outside the doors and pouncing on their lust eased bodies, draining them dry and leaving them to rot. The soft heart in him rationalised it as a way of protecting those beautiful, sinful creatures, just as he wished someone had been able to protect him.
As he approached the corner of the street he wanted, the vampire paused in the shadow of the building, his gaze surveying the darkened street. He came every night now. It was like a ritual, and he needed to stick to it. The risk of being spotted and recognised made his assessment of her street imperative. He did not want to lose the option of returning.
Slowly, anticipation lingering in his limbs as he neared her home, the vampire was glad of his recent feed. He knew that once he saw her, his hunger would flare, and he must reign it in. Her scent was intoxicating. It took everything in him to keep a leash on his restraint. He wanted to devour her, taste her flesh, and feel the warmth of her life blood on his tongue.
She was alluring and captivating, she plagued his daydreams and he ached to know her. But he could not. How could he? She would run from him, and he would not blame her. One so ethereal in her beauty and innocence would baulk if a monster such as he approached her. No. He had taken to watching her from afar, content for the opportunity to lay his eyes upon her. For now. The last few nights had seen him taking risks. Dangerous risks. Just to get a little closer. It was her scent, you see. She was irresistible.
The first time he had seen her, he had been taken back to those long ago days when he had been a mere boy. A boy who had delighted in laughter and pranks, living each moment to its fullest and just being young. There had been a girl at his school who had brought warmth to his cheeks when he looked upon her, her pretty lips and merry eyes had made his heart pound and his hands ache to touch the softness of her skin. The crush had consumed him, filtered through his dreams, and filled his waking thoughts until there was only her.
Years after his turning, he had tracked her down, a woman grown now. He had stood at a distance, not wanting to frighten her. He looked the same as he had the day he was turned after all, he had not aged a day, and he could not risk her recognising him as she read a story to her child before bed. Lingering at the window of her marriage home, seeing the child she had made through her union with her husband, it had made his cold heart remember that ache.
It was soon after this that he realised he needed to let go of the boy he had been. He was gone. That life had moved on, much like the delight of his boyhood heart. The vampire had a new life now, and he needed to embrace it.
....*....
When the vampire slid over the railing of the little window balcony, he paused, the window opening was ajar, the delicate night breeze teasing at the curtain. He planted his feet with predatory softness, moving lithely towards the opening and peering through into the darkened room. Moonlight lit the window behind him, his shadow cast across the floor of the room, the gentle sounds of a sleeping human in his ears as he paused. He had never entered her room before, only watching her sleep through the glass of the window in his promise to himself to not get too close. But, tonight, the window was open, an opportunity that had been sent to tempt him. If only he could make that final step and enter the sanctity of her room, but without an invitation from her own lips, he was stranded.
The minutes passed, and he remained, sat at her window, his eyes never leaving her sleeping form. Her hair was spread across her pillow, her cheeks delicately flushed in her slumber, lips parted with a tempting softness that stirred an old ache in his chest. She was so like the girl from a time long passed, that if he squinted his eyes a bit, maybe she could even be her. But, of course, that was impossible. She was long since dead now, a life lived to old age, and her bones already turned to dust. She was a fragment of his memory now, stored along with countless others, at least until he had laid eyes upon the girl in the bed.
She worked at a nearby library. He had caught her scent when she had left under the cover of darkness and trailed her through the city with the intent of feeding on that delicious warmth. One look at her face, however, had made him pause, his hunger abating a little as he stared. It had stolen his breath, frozen his limbs, and he had been unable to follow through with the hunt. The next night, he had returned to the library, and once again, when she had taken the steps down to the city street, he had followed her. It had been a month now, and he had followed her for many nights, even risking entry to the library itself to witness her beauty under the lights. At night, he would watch her sleep, fascinated, hungry, and oh so very lonely.
The vampire had not moved whilst he sat and observed from her window. He had made no sound, and so, when she opened her eyes and stared right at him, it had been a shock. He did not flinch nor make a sound, but if his heart had been beating, it would have skipped at the sight of her gaze. With eyes locked across the moonlit room, the vampire raced through his options. She had seen him.
He could disappear, jump back from the window, and land on nimble feet to run down the street, never to return. But, the thought of never returning made a chasm yawn empty and dark in his gut. The other option would be to tempt her to the window and drain her, take her life while he held her in his arms, and then try to forget that she had ever existed. But, forever was a long time to try and forget one so beautiful, and he knew from previous experience how difficult and mournful that would be. Every girl with similar eyes would haunt him. Girls with that shade of hair would turn his head and make him yearn. He did not want to take her from this mortal realm.
She sat up, her hair cascading over her shoulder, the bed cover slipping down to reveal the flimsy bed attire she wore. A hunger of a different kind swept over the vampire, his tongue slipping out to coat his lips as he eyed the smoothness of exposed flesh in the moonlight. Her beauty was outstanding, and his eyes were ready to become drunk on the very sight of it.
"I know you watch me," she said quietly. "It is why I left the window open."
His breath whispered softly past his lips. "Why would you leave the window open for me?"
One shoulder lifted, and she tilted her head, fingers toying with the bed cover. "I'm not entirely sure, but I know that you are not what you seem."
Her eyes met his. Curiosity and an eagerness lit their depths. There was no fear, and it made him consider her intently.
"I have been doing some research ever since I saw your face. I think I know what you are," she continued.
"And yet, you are not afraid? You open your window to me willingly?"
She took a deep breath and slid from the bed, her night gown dropping to mid thigh, his eyes following the curve of her leg as she walked to a desk in the corner of the room. The moonlight shifted the material of her nightgown, drawing it in tempting lines against the curve of her hips. His hunger was a tightly leashed beast, and he tensed as she approached the window, her scent so close that he could almost taste it. In her hands, she held a file, slipping out a sheet of paper that was a copy of a newspaper article. She held it up to him.
Bodies found drained of blood, the theories bandied about and the gossip rife. It was a familiar tale across many cities and years, and it was why he had to be careful. It was why he moved on and took turns in the cities of the world in order to stay one step ahead.
He looked from the article to her, his expression one of calm as he raised an eyebrow. She hesitated and then pulled out more and more clippings, older and older, pages of notes that she had taken in her research until she slipped an old photograph from a battered sleeve. This time, her fingers trembled as she held it up, her eyes shining as she stared at him, the flicker of fear there behind the unshed tears.
"It's you. It has to be."
The vampire stared at the photograph, the image so old and faded now but undeniably him, his youthful face so sincere as he posed for his school book entry. The innocence of his youthful gaze was a memory as faded as the photograph, and yet it made him hurt in ways he had forgotten. Pain that he had buried deeply seized him, choked him, and he turned away, unable to stare at that lost boy any longer.
"Perhaps I merely look like him," he said. He tried to put a cold edge to his voice, but he failed. His sire would mock him, call him soft, tease him for not being a better vampire.
"If there is one thing I pride myself on, it is my research," she said. She looked down at the photograph, throat working as she ran a finger tip over his face. "This has to be you, Garreth."
This time, the vampire did startle, his hands gripping the edge of the window, his eyes opening wide. Rarely did he reveal his birth given name to anyone. It wasn't worth it. Either he wouldn't be around long enough to warrant revealing it, or the person was about to die, and it was pointless. A very select few knew the truth, and yet his name had been spoken through her perfect lips, and she held his photograph in her hands.
Their eyes met, something tense and wonderful wrapping around the moment. It was more intimate than he had any right to. His nightly ritual had gone from observing her to hearing his name on her lips, and he found he rather liked it.
"How...?" He swallowed and looked at the photo in her hands. So many questions. "How did you come by that photograph?"
Her gaze was soft, full of wonderous curiosity as she looked at him. "I have wondered many a time what your voice would sound like, and to hear you speak now..." She smiled, a blush staining her cheeks as her words dwindled.
"My grandmother had this photograph inside a file of notes and papers. I found it when my family was clearing out her things after she died. I kept the file a secret and realised she had been following the trail of a suspected vampire. Research continued on from her own mother. I have always believed in things that go bump in the night, and I knew I had to continue on. It is why I took the job at the library."
"Your grandmother?" Garreth frowned in thought, wondering why these women in her family would care to follow his trail. He tensed and stepped back suddenly, a thought so cold and unwelcome entering his mind. "You're hunters?"
Her lips parted, face aghast at his question. "No!" She protested. Her hand flew out, and she reached for his arm, her fingertips grazing the back of his hand as he pulled back further. A shocked gasp left her mouth, and she snatched her hand back, finger tips rubbing together.
"You're... You're so cold... I..."
There it was. There was the fear in her eyes now. Realisation was dawning of what he truly was, and she trembled. His still, undead heart appeared to plummet, hating to see the fear in her gaze now when before she had been so soft and curious. But, it was inevitable, was it not?
"This is why you should not leave your window open, my dear," he said softly. "There are monsters in this world, and you are far too lovely to be pulled into such horrors. You must forgive me for coming here, I should have known better."
He leapt onto the railing, crouching with feline ease, ready to launch himself to the ground, but he couldn't resist one last look back.
"Garreth, please, don't go," she begged. She clutched the photo in her hand, her eyes desperate. "Or, at least come back. I have things I want to show you, I have questions. I mean you no harm... Please?"
The sweet sting of regret tore at him, sad green eyes lingering on the way the moon lit her face. So beautiful. And then he was gone. He leapt from her balcony, landing with effortless ease and then running. He was nothing but a swift, fleeting shadow as his feet ghosted the pavement, running from her, running from himself.
....*....
His dwelling place was nothing fancy, nothing that one would call home. Without the need to sleep, he didn't really require a home as such. There was no need to find a suitable place to lay his head. However, he did require shelter from the daylight hours. Garreth had read many, many books over the years, tales of vampires who lay stiff in their coffins an amusing image he often pondered over. He had yet to witness such a thing, preferring to avoid the trappings surrounding death considering the ease with which he dealt it out.
No, for him, sanctuary from the sun could simply be a cosy barn and a book. Perhaps a day inside a museum, or even exploring caves and mysterious forests under the cover of trees. A thick cloak on particularly gloomy days was often sufficient and offered him the chance to observe the world in its waking hours. Or, he would simply take a room and relax.
Today, Garreth did something that he did only on rare occasions. He opened a small chest that he kept inside his travelling trunk, a selection of old world potions and oddities inside that he procured from alchemists on his travels. He had a keen interest in such things and had an old friend in Italy who had taught him the science. If he were to truly settle in a place, then alchemy was high on his list of pass times to dabble in.
The potion was golden in colour, the liquid a shimmering sparkle under the lamplight. As he drank it down, it felt like sunshine itself spreading through his body. It had been months since he had last walked under the sun, and today, he was going to take that risk. A fool's risk.
Walking the city free from the shadows put a pep in his step, he tipped his head to a few lovely ladies, his smile so charming, the sunlight lighting the dazzling green of his eyes. With such a charming aura, one could almost ignore the pallor of his frigid skin, the slight darkness under his eyes. The red glow of hunger was firmly under control whilst he was in the company of mortals, playing the role of a gentleman on a stroll with practised perfection as he strolled towards the city library.
Despite his swift exit last night, he apparently couldn't stay away from the girl who had spoken his name. The library loomed up before him, his feet taking the stairs in a skip, and then he was strolling through the doors as though he had every right to be here. The scent of old books and parchment welcomed him, along with the aroma of coffee from the little café inside. The unrelenting scents of life blood was always present, the temptation of it curling like smoke through his body, his instincts on high alert as he navigated study tables and settees, huge bookcases stretching up and up towards the arched ceilings.
Where to look for his night time angel?
He could tell himself as much as he liked that he was doing this because he was curious what other information she held in that file of hers. His empty heart could deny the flutter in his chest at the thought of speaking with her again, to seek out the chance to look into her eyes and have her look back. His lonely existence craved such little things, and having gone so long without it, now that he'd had a taste, the craving was almost as thick as his lust for blood.
He found her in the back of the library, seated at a desk with piles of books stacked around her, her head bent over a massive tome, face set in concentration as she perused the page. The soft glow of the table lamp lit her face, highlighting delicate curves and the light of her eyes.
He stood and admired, drinking in the sight of human warmth and softness, the steady throb of her pulse teasing at his ears. His hunger lingered, prowling at the edge of his consciousness, and he regretted not taking a feed before coming here. As much as he desperately craved her taste, he was loathe to harm her. She had entranced him, swept him along on a tide of foolishness, and he found he didn't require saving. He was all in. She had spoken his name, she knew who he was, and he did not fear it.
Perhaps he should. Perhaps he should move closer and lock gazes with her, summon the masterful trick of compulsion and wipe her memory of him, remove all traces, and take the file from her possession. It would be as though he never existed, and he could vanish into the night, move on to the next city, and put it down as just another memory, a mere moment in a century.
He took a step towards her, silent and sure, and she lifted her head. Their gazes locked, the moment stretching with the same warmth from the night before, and he smiled.
"Good morning," he said softly.
There would be no compulsion tricks today.
....*....
For as long as she could remember, she had been obsessed with ghostly tales and monsters that prowled the shadows. She had delved into the minds of authors who wrote of such things, absorbing their characters set in worlds that were far more fascinating than her own. She longed for the darkness and lore that surrounded these fabled creatures, wished there was truth to the myths.
Her mother had sighed and indulged her love by handing her the books she so greedily consumed over and over again. But, her mother had warned her not to read too much into such tales, encouraged her to dwell in the real world more than in fiction. But she didn't listen.
Instead, she had been drawn into the aura of her maternal grandmother, rushing to her home after school to sit and chat about these myths and legends. Her grandmother had a twinkle in her eye, a love for the unusual, and encouraged her to look deeper.
Not everything is as it seems, she would say, her eyes full of excitement. The moment that she loved the most was curling up and listening to the stories that her grandmother would weave about a young boy who had been turned into a vampire, forced to change into a monster and leave behind the girl he had loved. It was her favourite story, and she had heard it so many times, savouring every detail.
Those memories were precious, and when they had laid her grandmother to rest, she had made sure to say a blessing over her grave to keep the monsters at bay. Her grandmother believed, and therefore she believed, and that belief had carried her through to her meeting with Garreth.
When she had found the old file in her grandmother's belongings, she had hidden it from her mother, knowing that it would be burned or thrown out as nonsense. Sorting through the many pages of notes, the newspaper cuttings, and detailed research, she gasped aloud at the sight of the beautiful boy in the photograph.
Her favourite bedtime story whispered to her in the safety of her grandmother's love, was true. The vampire boy was real, Garreth was real, and now she had a face in a photograph to put to the name.
Her job at the library had come about through her passion for the written word and her thirst to know more. Research was her safe place and she delved ever deeper into the lore of the vampire, every night going to her bed with tired eyes, but always taking a look at that old photograph before going to sleep.
She had memorised Garreth's face, she saw it in her dreams, and realised that a desperate longing had begun to grow within her. If he was real, then he was in the world somewhere. A real-life vampire. She wanted to meet him.
Why her grandmother had this research, and why her great-grandmother had passed it on to her, she had no idea. Her grandmother's passing had been sudden, and she wondered if there was a story to tell behind it all. Perhaps she would never know.
So, when she had left the library one evening, tired and ready to get home, she had not been prepared for the glimpse of a familiar face. It had been brief, so quick that she had almost thought she had imagined it, but it had made her heart pound.
The features had been the same, every line and curve she had studied and memorised so engrained on her brain that she was sure it couldn't have been anyone else. And yet, once home, she had begun to doubt it. The serious voice of her mother echoing in her thoughts, telling her that she needed to get more sleep, she needed to take a break from obsessing over a boy who was probably, in reality, long dead.
Her dreams haunted her. His face would appear, but not as a sepia toned image anymore, but a very real person. A young man with piercing green eyes and freckled skin, waves of beautiful red hair that curled with such softness. It had to be Garreth.
She saw him again, stirring from a dream, blinking into the darkness and seeing a silhouette at her window. This one she did put down to being half asleep and conjuring him into life. But, she just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
In the corner of the library, a shape at the window, a blur on the street corner. Someone. Him. The vampire.
She took to laying awake, curled up beneath the blanket, waiting and watching. Sure enough, the shadow would appear outside the window. She would feign sleep, watching through lowered lids, and he came again and again. She left the library later and later, waiting for the darkness and strained to see and listen as she walked. Not every time, but many times, she caught glimpses.
Her passion and her stubbornness in refusing to give up on this vampire boy had paid off. The fear of the monster he could be didn't phase her. After all this time, she was ready to face whatever Garreth truly was. Her whole life had been leading up to that moment. She was certain of it.
And so, she left the window open. It was an invitation, a welcome. She wanted him to step from the shadows and come face to face with her. After years of longing for that something else, and months of staring at his photo. She wanted to finally see the truth.
He came, he arrived at the window, and this time, she chose bravery and she spoke to him.
....*....
Seeing the vampire in the familiar sanctuary of the library quickened her pulse, the soft lights reflected off his red hair, his pale skin flawless and dusted with freckles. Looking up at him from her seat at the table, her very breath was stolen at his beauty. It was like a magnet pulling her slowly from the real world into dreams as she found herself drowning in depths of green.
"Garreth," she said, softly. "What are you doing here?"
His smile was like a caress. "You expect me to stay away from a young lady who keeps a photograph of me in her bedroom?"
Her cheeks bloomed with sudden warmth, and she swallowed nervously, his charm working a tingling kind of magic that swept over her skin.
"I... I meant no harm," she said. Her hand gripped the edge of the table. Apparently, she was unable to look away from him. Was this some kind of vampire magic? She wasn't sure. There was some suggestion that they had the ability to perform tricks on their prey. The research notes she had being rather vague on the matter meant she couldn't be too sure. What an opportunity she had to find out the truth!
Garreth moved around the table and leant his hand against the top, bending over to look down at the book she was reading. The delicate scent of cologne reached her nose, and a more subtle scent, an alluring tease of clean male that pulled at something rather deep within her belly. Her breath hitched and she leant back a little, intimidated by the overwhelming closeness of him, not just as a vampire capable of draining the very life out of her, but as a man who was very beautiful and alluring.
"Last night, you said you had much more to show me," he said. He turned those green eyes on her again, his face so much closer now, and she could see the delicate strands of red that flecked the iris of his eyes. "I'm curious to find out what else you have hidden away."
Her lips parted as though to speak, but the words failed to leave her mouth. She was enraptured, staring at him as though there was nothing else in the world that mattered. She felt every throb of pulse, every rasp of breath into her starved lungs, and she was leaning forward, drawn in by invisible threads that pulled her ever closer. He held her gaze, his smile borderline wicked, and then he blinked, dropping his gaze from hers and standing up straight.
It was as though someone had clapped their hands in front of her eyes to snap her out of a daze. She blinked a few times and looked around as though she had forgotten where she was, and maybe she had. Her head felt fuzzy, confused, and when she looked back at Garreth, she wondered if she had imagined that strange connection.
His head tilted as he smiled down at her again. "For all your interest, you've never met anyone like me before have you."
She cleared her throat and shook her head. "No. You're the first. How did you know?"
"Your reactions," he smiled and flipped open a book on top of a pile. "A vampire is designed to lure in their victims. Everything, from their scent to their aura, it draws a person in, lures them closer for the inevitable bite. I had thought you might be better prepared for such things. I had expected you to try and stop me."
She gulped, hands flat on the table top. Her gaze flicked to his mouth. When he smiled at her, his teeth had seemed relatively normal, and no huge fangs descended like she had read about. She couldn't help but be curious. His revelation about luring a person in for the kill sent a shiver down her spine. So, it was true.
Is that what he had been doing just now? Tempting her closer... Did he want to bite her?
"Is it true about mind control, then?" She asked, clearing her throat. "Some of my research suggests that a vampire can manipulate the mind and meddle with memories."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes twinkling. "Maybe I have slipped into your mind already," he teased. He leaned over the table top, predatory and borderline irresistible. "Perhaps you already belong to me, and I can do whatever I wish with you."
Her eyes widened. Subtle fear began to make her tremble, and yet she was aroused, skin tingling and her pulse becoming a hot throb. Did that mean he really had invaded her head? She stared at him, curiosity mingling with anxiety.
He was a monster, after all. A very beautiful monster, but one all the same, capable of killing her in the blink of an eye.
"I haven't, by the way," he said softly. His gaze lingered on her mouth before trailing down to her neck. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But it's tempting. You are tempting."
She glanced nervously around them before speaking, her voice dropping to a whisper, her mouth dry. "Are you going to bite me?"
His smile was slow, devastating. "Only if you ask me nicely."
Her lips parted, and she realised with utter shock that the words were right there on the tip of her tongue. She blushed fiercely and clamped her mouth closed lest she speak them. Did she truly want him to bite her? What would it feel like to have his mouth on her throat? Her eyes dropped to his very lovely lips, and she shivered.
A low chuckle sounded in his throat, and he straightened, taking a deep breath and gazing towards the arched window across the room.
"There are many hours of daylight left. However, I am on a time limit. I can not linger for too long," he said. His captivating eyes returned to her, and she met them gladly. "I must take my leave. I could return to you under the cover of night unless you know of somewhere we can talk out of the burning rays of the sun."
Getting to her feet, she smoothed her skirt over her thighs and nodded. "Would you prefer to remain here at the library or go somewhere more private?"
She didn't think she would ever be tired of seeing his smile. He looked so terribly beautiful when he allowed his mouth to do so. Could she trust that smile? How many others had done so and regretted their decision? As mindful she should be of his nature, she could not help the wave of intense curiosity, her drive to delve deeper for answers. It was a balancing act of weighing up the foolishness of daring to dance with a devil, or the foolishness of potentially allowing a real vampire to escape her, taking with him all the knowledge that could fill the gaps in her research.
"I think somewhere more private is in order," he said.
She nodded, a flush of excitement making her tremble a little. A private meeting with a vampire. It was time to see if her choice would pay off. "Of course. Allow me to fetch my things and make my excuses."
....*....
Her home was very different in the daylight. The street bustled with life, the sunlight dappling through the trees, and life of such ordinary and mundane moments carried on around them as they arrived at the building entrance. Garreth observed the street, his heightened senses absorbing everything from scents and sounds to faces and shadows. The predator in him made these instinctive observations, ever mindful that he was not the only hunter.
Turning his focus back on the lovely young lady beside him, his eyes twinkled as she gazed up at him shyly. The delicate pink that bloomed on her cheeks as she dipped her gaze made his hunger claw with savage urgency. Her life blood warmed that soft skin, it called to him as they entered the cooler lobby of the building and took the stairs.
He had not come here to bite her, as tempting as that beautiful neck was. He had come to ease the curiosity she stirred within him. Not just because of her file on him, but because she had stirred up memories and emotions he had thought long since gone. His life as a boy had been brought back to the forefront with one sepia toned photograph and the allure of a beautiful smile.
Following her to her door, her scent drifting under his nose, he realised how vulnerable she really was. Back at the library, he had not intended to use mind control on her, and he hadn't meant to influence her at all, but the hunger had been strong and all consuming. He had called to her through his eyes and his scent, saw the way her pupils had widened in response. If he had so wished, he could have plucked her like a new spring flower and devoured her scent, taken what was so temptingly on offer, and she would have let him.
It was a measure of his self-control and years of honing his skills that he had chosen not to do so. His choice had led him here to where she was safe, and he was not sure if this was the better option. Here, he had her alone. Once she granted him permission to cross the threshold of her door, he could come and go as he pleased. She was inviting the devil into her home, and what if he chose to play?
Her key slid into the lock, and the door swung wide. She stepped through and turned to him, pausing as she looked down at where his feet remained in the hall. She gasped as her pretty eyes lifted to meet his.
"It's true! You can't come in uninvited."
Rather than be fearful, curious delight lit her face, and he marvelled at it. Bravery or foolishness, the girl was full of it. He bowed slightly, hands clasped at his back.
"Yes, it is true. I implore you to consider your next words carefully. Invite me in at your own risk."
Her chin lifted, a stubborn light gleaming in her eyes, but her fingers clutched at her bag with a tight grip. "You won't hurt me. You would have done it already. All those nights, you followed me or waited at my window. Not once have you tried to lay a finger on me."
"Perhaps I like the chase," he said softly.
Her pupils flared, and her throat worked. Such a delicate flutter of pulse, her blood rushing sweet and swift. He could smell the delicate edge of her fear, and yet the stubbornness remained. It stirred him in ways long forgotten, his loneliness reaching out with shadowed fingers towards the fire in her soul.
"Please, come in."
It was said with confidence and yet with softness. His lips twitched, and he bowed once more, his eyes never leaving hers. "You honour me, and I thank you for your invitation."
Slowly, he took a deliberate step forward, his boot crossing the threshold of her door. He was inside. She had welcomed him into her safety, and with a swift flick of his wrist, the door swung closed with a click.
As their eyes locked, the significance of the moment was not lost on him. He had all the power, the notion of it as comfortable and familiar as a good pair of shoes, easily slipped on and reliable. He could reach out and take her, put his mark on her, feed until his skin glowed with her warmth. It made his mouth water, his gums ached with the need to elongate his teeth and pierce sweet skin.
Her beauty called to him, but so did her words. He had questions, and she could give him those answers. He wanted to hear them, but most of all, he wanted to be near her. This was the closest he had ever been and how he longed to feel the pound of his own heart, for he knew that she would make it beat fast and true. His heart had not beat for years upon years, and this girl, this intriguing beauty, made him yearn for something that he had thought out of reach.
He stepped forward, a hand smoothing down the front of his very expensive suit jacket, his smile charming and warm.
"Now then, my dear. What wonderful things can you tell me about your research? I am all ears."
To be continued....
#garreth weasley x mc#garreth weasley#vampire garreth weasley#weasley wed#weasley wednesday#garreth's groupies#blueraineshadows
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Serenity of Smoke
wc : 1.7k
next chapter !
So, is all countless suffering for my own good?
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— [ I ] —
You always loved the idea of writing for a living. You were an avid reader in your childhood, books upon books surrounding your room so much you might as well have been swimming in them. The local library became your second home when home didn't feel like it, the librarian recommended books every time you finished another and giving the praise you never received.
Journalism was both a romanticised and underrated job. You wanted to give others the same feeling you did as a child, the ability to indulge in fictional worlds when the real one was too much. Growing up made you come to the reality that acting on your love for journalism proved to be harder than you expected. The side jobs, the money you constantly lacked—you only had a chance of winning if you were famous. Since you were a child you dreamed of this type of job, the type where you could be alone with your thoughts, the type where you could stay in the serenity of your home and isolate yourself with the excuse of your work. No forced interactions with shitty co-workers? You were immediately sold.
Today was slow, uneventful. You worked from home in your office which doubled as your bedroom on the frequent occasion you fell asleep at your desk, only going into the office on few instances. Writer's block came to you more often than you'd like to admit, your days consisting of a split screen with whatever show Netflix recommended to fill the silence and an unbelievable amount of procrastinating. At this point, time became blurred and you lost count of how long you had been staring at your blank screen, your eyes becoming low and heavy with fatigue. On the rare occurrences you were in the office, you felt close to nothing but envy. While you were told to be an exceptional writer, said to be "the next Sylvia Path of our generation", you wrote slower than your peers, the words finding their way to you harder than others. They were the "shitty co-workers" in your nightmares, belittling you on the speed at which you produced your work as if the quality of your writing didn't surpass theirs by lightyears.
You opened the door to the prettiest cats you ever met, being an exception to the "Closed!" sign on the door. Your eyes raced to look for your favourite—Mimi and Mars, Mimi being a calico with the most beautifully placed patches across her eyes and Mars a brown cat with heterochromia. Yoongi's café was one of the few places your mind felt at peace, especially after closing hours; he would always let you stay until he finished his last few tasks. Soft light poured through the windows, the sounds of purring cats and light traffic eliminating the overwhelming anxiety you felt prior. You swore you could have fallen asleep right there, on the floor with your back on the wall and the sun warming your face, Mars and Mimi laying on your lap.
Eventually, Yoongi walked out from the back room, carrying empty food platters and readying them for the day ahead. He smiled as he sat himself down next to you, "Said hi to the cats before me?" You leaned your head on his shoulder, the smell of cigarettes encompassing the air around you. "You're basically one of the cats yourself." Mimi rolled herself over onto Yoongi's lap, purring as he calmly pet her head. "If we're both not married by 60 we're getting married and becoming cat parents." You mumbled in agreement, your tiredness almost overpowering your ability to speak. Although he was making a comical remark, you both knew you would agree to being (platonic) cat parents without a second thought.
"Writer's block beating your ass?" At this point, you believed he was able to read your mind with how he read you so easily. "Yeah...today was long." He wrapped his arm around you, running his thumb back and forth across your shoulder before announcing it was time to put the cats in their cages so he could lock up.
You gave Mimi and Mars their last pets before they left, probably being the last time you saw them that week. "You guys don't wanna go do you? You should stay with me one day." Despite your words, both cats followed Yoongi with no sympathy for your yearning. While you were exaggerating your heartbreak, Min laughed as he carried Mars and Mimi to the back where the cages were.
"They definitely like me more."
"Ermm, fuck you too then."
"Swearing in front of the kids? No wonder they like me more. She's such a bad influence isn't she?" Turning his attention to the cats, he looked at you with a fake look of disappointment, as to make you feel bad for your 'bad language'. He broke character and laughed, his smile so contagious you laughed harder.
You got up to help Yoongi put all 13 cats back into their cages, matching each cat to the assigned name on their enclosures. You made sure to pet them before locking the gates, covering them with blankets and giving treats to each of them before you and Min left. Both the book and laptop in your tote bag remained untouched, as you expected. You crossed your legs and sat on one of the chairs while Yoongi vacuumed the cat hair that had been shed and it was finally time to leave. He grabbed his keys and walked you back to your house despite living the complete other way of LL. He watched as you walked through the door before leaving, walking back to where he was parked in front of his café and driving to his apartment in the other direction.
As you finally changed out of your 'outside' clothes, you made yourself your favourite strawberry tea and switched on every ambient lighting you had in your room—the big light was basically illegal in this house. You opened your phone to a message from Yoongi, saved as "luna :P" in your phone.
6:47pm
bar 520 tmrw?
6:48pm
u know i could never say no :3 what time?
6:48pm
7? u can get ready at my place, bring whatever
6:50pm
okay, see u tmrw :3
Seen, "luna :P" liked your message.
don’t steal, translate or repost my work
©maiiruo
#min yoongi#yoongi series#yoongi fanfic#ambw#ambw kpop#kpop fanfic#yoongi au#bangtan x reader#yoongi x reader#bangtan series#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#ꨄ︎ masterlist !#bangtan masterlist
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★ Hello, all you wonderful people. I know it's been a pretty long time since I've posted any kind of story or fic update. The inspiration well has been suffering a terrible drought, and then this idea hit me pretty hard, and I decided just to see where it would take me. Story will get smutty so, no minors or ageless blogs. ★ The world is entirely my own as it is part of another piece of fiction I am writing, however, @twisteddaydreams1135 & @meggsngrits have been helping so much with ideas and plot, it's not even funny. Thank you guys for your continual help. I know I wouldn't even have started this if it wasn't for you two. I also pulled some inspo from the incredible fantasy audio series by Yuzuya. ★ Below I give you a little taste of what is to come. The story will heavily follow the BakuSquad as well as some other beloved characters from the series. I really hope you all enjoy ♡
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When you woke up this morning, this wasn't quite how you imagined your day would play out. It started normal, a bit exciting even. You had the opportunity to aid two travelers in locating information regarding some dragon clans, which just so happened to be your area of expertise.
But, you thought when they walked down the library's grand marble staircase and out into the crowded evening streets, it would be the end of the day's excitement. Truth be told, even if you were a senior librarian, nothing too thrilling ever really occurred within the city limits.
All of that changed just a few hours later.
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Never in your life had your heart raced quite this fast. Then again, you'd never been running for your life before. Hand in hand with the very loud, and grouchy blonde you'd helped earlier in the day. Footfalls pounding against the cobblestone road in sync with each other, propelling yourselves forward, keeping just ahead of the six hunters that had cornered you not minutes before.
He pulled you through the city you'd always called home, the one you'd never left, making sharp turns down alleyways and cutting across roads without so much as a second thought. Anything he could think of to get them off your trail, he was trying, and yet nothing deterred them.
You were nearing the city limits. And it was only a limit because it was a cliffside. A massive one at that. Standing high above the sea with its unforgiving waves hundreds of feet below.
“When we get to the ledge, don't slow down. Just keep running and jump.”
Just when you thought it would burst, your heart sped up even more. He was insane. He had to be.
“Are you mad? That's a cliff, you know! We'll die!”
“Don't argue! Just do it!”
Before you could blink or hold him back, his free hand flung out behind you both, and magic exploded outward from his palm in a brilliant display of light and sparks that had citizens screaming and debris scattering in every direction. But, it afforded you time. Just precious seconds to create enough space between you and the hunters.
The ledge was a few meters away, there was no going back now. “JUST JUMP!” He screamed, and another blast went off powerful enough to launch the two of you right over the edge, and then you were free-falling through the open air.
Your stomach lurched, and your heart lodged itself in your throat as the wind tore through your hair and stung your skin like a thousand tiny needles. You had a death grip on the blonde's hand and just waited for the icy waters below to swallow you whole, but no chill came.
One moment you were falling, and the next, you were flying. Your body connected with something hard as the man held you in place. “Get up here. Can't have ya fallin' off.” You opened your eyes to see two massive ebony wings, dragon wings, carrying you away from the only home you'd ever known...
#mha#bnha#kirishima#bakugou#mha fantasy au#dragon kirishima#barbarian prince bakugou#dragons and magic galor#bakugou x reader#kirishima x reader#please please please let me know if you want more#I've been having so much fun developing this story
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Welcome to Night Vale episode 250 "Father Kevin" transcript
Episode description: There is no Night Vale. There is Mother Lauren's Brood. We are loved.
I don’t make the rules. I just gleefully enforce them, even though I don’t have to.
Welcome to Night Vale.
###
There is no Ralphs. There is Mother Lauren’s pantry. There is no hole out back of the Ralphs-- there is Mother Lauren’s soil embrace. There is no Night Vale. There is Mother Lauren’s brood.
We are loved. We are loved! We are--
[Radio interference. It fades in and out between incomprehensible moments of a man speaking, a woman speaking another language, and a band, before increasing in volume and suddenly cutting out.]
Sorry. It is difficult to break free of the malign influence of Mother Lauren.
We live in two realities. One in which all is well, and one in which we are teetering over an edge from which we cannot return. I speak from both realities. I speak from both sides of my mouth.
The conflict that roiled Night Vale continues, but in a strange, slow way. Mother Lauren stands on a podium in what once was Grove Park, her tendrils snaking through every part of the town, and through many of the people. The buildings expand, and contract, like lungs. The trees are melting. The people of Night Vale still bravely fight, but like people fighting in a painting; smudgey, and two-dimensional.
The Boy--who is the younger version of Kevin from Desert Bluffs--stands next to Mother Lauren, holding her hand. His face shows exertion, as if the greatest battle is inside his body. But he cannot move.
The last time Lauren came to Night Vale, she came as a representative of StrexCorp, here to conquer us in the name of capitalism. This time? Is different. This time she fights with stranger, stronger stuff. I don’t think she is turning us into another Desert Bluffs, I think, if anything, she is making all of us part of her body. She is transcending, and we are fodder for her change.
Mother Lauren speaks, and her voice rings out from every part of her body-- which is the entire city. “I am bored already of this,” she says. “It was too easy to defeat you. Your loss is not as delicious to me as I had hoped.”
But all is not yet lost-- there is a plan. Our future lies with Alejandra Nuñez, Ronnie Sharma, and Nanako Barnes of Mr. Prescott’s 5th Period AP English Class, otherwise known as “The Library Tweens”. These brave children have followed in Tamika Flynn’s footsteps, coming face-to-face with a librarian and emerging victorious. Now they must come face-to-face with something maybe… fifteen percent more horrifying than a librarian. A twisted, cosmic god.
The kids told me they could not give me the specifics of the plan, only that it involved using ropes and grappling hooks to cross the dangerous city streets through the air, guerrilla-style strikes on Mother Lauren’s weak points, capturing Kevin, and finally attacking Mother Lauren when she least suspects it-- at noon today. She’ll never see it coming.
As part of the plan, I have been asked to create a distraction so that Mother Lauren and Kevin won’t notice what they are doing until it is too late. They told me it is “vitally important” that no-one notice until the plan has been completed, and so I had been sworn to secrecy-- a secrecy I will break for no-one! Except of course, you, my listeners. I could never keep anything from you.
I thought a lot about what a good distraction would be, and here’s what I’ve come up with-- Hey! Look over there!
[Cecil runs away from the microphone, his footsteps going right-to-left-to-right, before they fade away. In the distance, after a brief pause, a window is smashed. Several sirens sound, seeming to be cars driving down the street as they fade in and out accompanied with scraping metal. Multiple dogs bark before they fade away as well. A car zooms down the street, seeming to possibly loop around the station before fading into silence. An air-raid siren fades in and out as wind blows, brief chanting is heard, what sounds like an old movie with incomprehensible dialogue plays. The siren stops as the chanting returns, an incomprehensible voice seeming to come from a radio plays, a rumbling is heard, and the Indiana Jones theme plays follows the rumbling right-to-left. Wind seems to blow again and fades out as Cecil’s footsteps return, the beginning few sounding like he just jumped through the window he may have broken. He continues walking over what sounds like metal, and then returns to the microphone, panting through his words.]
So…sorry… little out of breath. …We’ll see if that worked.
Oh no. Despite what some might say is the best distraction anyone has done in the history of getting people to look away from something important, it appears that Mother Lauren somehow got wind of the plan. She flinched, and the world flinched with her. She glared, and the world swooned. She no longer even has to fight; Night Vale is her thick, sludging heart, her pockmarked lungs-- she has made us part of her disease.
“I am the universe itself,” she howled, an air raid siren of a voice coming from all places at once. “To fight me is to fight the fabric of existence-- a laughable effort.”
The Library Tweens were seized by Mother Lauren’s drones--who once were our own citizens, but now are pink, spongy lumps with no eyes, constantly screaming; “Help me! I still feel all of it, there is some vital part of me that remains untainted, I still have a soul!” as they lumber comically towards the tweens. The tweens put up a valiant fight, but they were captured and thrown into the town prison-- which now is covered in a pale, flakey skin.
The Boy watched this all happen, holding onto Mother Lauren’s hands, enfolded in her multitude of oil-slick wings. Something came over him, and he turned, and struck out at Mother Lauren! With the effort of his entire soul, he resisted her influence, and he stuck a knife into her side! …Without bothering to look his way, she weaved her tendrils around him and he was absorbed into her being. The Boy now stands at her feet, the tendrils fused with his skin, and pulsing sickeningly. His eyes are blank whites. His hands flap about like they are playing an invisible piano.
Oh, Night Vale… This is the moment of greatest despair. We have not only been defeated, but… changed. We are no longer who we are.
And to make matters worse, here comes Kevin, unfolding himself from the crowd, strutting up to the podium of his victory.
He looks around at the city that he has finally driven under his thumb. After years of resisting him, we can resist no more. He sees the bowling alley, enrobed in veins and arteries and malignant tumors. He sees town hall turned into a tongue, covered in white fuzz.
He sees my own station, my beloved radio station, now entirely made of the same stuff as toenails. He sees all the evidence of his victory. And then he turns, and looks at The Boy. The Boy that he came back for. The Boy that is the younger version of himself, he looks at the helpless boy and he smiles.
Here, there is a… heavy stillness, but somewhere, thunder. Somewhere, snow. Somewhere, far away, weather.
###
Weather: Cutting Teeth by Priscilla Snow.
###
Well.
Okay.
I don’t know what to do here, honestly.
Usually when we go to the weather report, a great struggle, or, climactic event happens concurrently with it, and we come back to a problem solved. With my perspective now shifted to the past I can then fill you in on how we made it through yet another dangerous day in our fair town. Now some people mistake this for the weather actually fixing the problem but that’s… that’s not the case. The weather usually just happens at the same time as what fixes the problem, and then I, (utilizing my expert narrative skills), tell you how that happened.
This time however, everything is more or less how we left it. The Boy? Still captive. Mother Lauren? Still ascendant. And Kevin? Still smiling.
There will be no victorious shift in perspective. Only a terrifying march through the ceaseless present. And in that present moment, Kevin turns to The Boy. He kneels down, still smiling, and takes The Boy’s hand. Gently, he untangles Mother Lauren’s tendrils from The Boy’s skin. He guides The Boy down from the podium. Mother Lauren, her eyes to the cosmos, is seemingly impassive to the final meager death throes of our little town.
The Boy looks at Kevin. Kevin smiles at The Boy-- I do not like that smile, but then… I have never liked Kevin’s smile.
“The last time I was here,” Kevin says, “I said that this was a situation I would not be able to handle alone. And I was right! And I was wrong. Because I can handle it with just me, but, I cannot handle it with only one of me.”
“I’m sorry,” The Boy says, “but I don’t know who you are.”
It seems that his encounter with the body and mind of Mother Lauren has left him without his memories. He stares blankly at the world like it was a book in a language he took a few classes back in high school, like he should know it, but he doesn’t.
“That’s okay,” Kevin says, “because I remember enough for the both of us. I’ve never talked much about my father-- he was a jovial man, but a stern man. He was a fair man, but with priorities I did not always understand. I think he did the best job he could-- in fact, I know he did, because, in this moment, I understand him better than anyone has ever understood their own father.”
“Okay,” The Boy says. He clearly doesn’t know why this man is telling him this. He says, “I don’t have a father.” He doesn’t say this tragically, but like he was telling the time to someone who asked.
“Ah,” says Kevin, “but you do. My childhood was a strange riddle I never could quite solve, and here you are, a neat solution to the question of my life.”
Listeners, I am starting to understand what Kevin is getting at here-- and I’m not sure I like it, but it does have a certain… symmetry to it. Life is rarely fair, but it is often balanced.
“What are you saying?” The Boy says.
“Your name is Kevin, and I am your father, “ says Kevin, who is Kevin’s Father.
“I am? You are?” says The Boy who is Kevin.
“Yes,” says Kevin’s Father. “I will raise you well, or well enough, or, well, enough, you know? I will see you through.”
He looks up at Mother Lauren. She finally looks down, her tendrils weave through the earth and the bricks and the flesh of Night Vale, her sunny smile clouds over.
“I thought I was through with you,” she says.
“You were wrong,” says Kevin, and Kevin’s Father, simultaneously. Kevin’s Father stands tall, and Kevin stands as tall as he can, which is not nearly as tall as his father. Not yet.
“Dead wrong!” calls a voice from the crowd, and here steps forward Alejandra Nuñez, Ronnie Sharma, and Nanako Barnes of Mr. Prescott’s 5th Period AP English Class, otherwise known as “The Library Tweens”.
“I thought you were in jail,” I say from my radio booth, because this is all happening in the present moment so it just now occurred to me that I could be an active part of these events.
“We were,” says Ronnie, “but then, this nice old lady busted us out!”
“I am not old! I’m in my early twenties for God’s sake!” says Tamika Flynn.
“She did a real daring and action-packed jailbreak!” says Nanako. “I wouldn’t have known someone that ancient had it in her!”
“Ugh,” says Tamika. But she does look exhilarated about having once again taken part in an adventure. In one hand she holds a rope, and in her other hand she holds a copy of the novel “Autumn” by Ali Smith. It’s the British first-edition, the one that was printed on a working blowtorch.
“Point is!” says Alejandra to Mother Lauren, “You’ll have to stand against us!”
“And me,” says Tamika, shooting a menacing jet of fire from Ali Smith’s elliptical portrait of Brexit-era Britain.
“And me,” says Kevin’s Father.
Kevin, the young boy that he is, looks around, unsure. This is all a lot of new information all at once. But he makes his decision; “And me,” he says.
Mother Lauren laughs, and the mountains laughs with her, hollow booms in canyons and passes. She swats at Kevin-- but Kevin dodges. Mother Lauren’s face flickers with concern, she swats again-- nothing connects. The streets roil.
“I knew you before,” Kevin’s Father says, “I know that somewhere in there is human vulnerability!”
“Laughable!” screams Mother Lauren. She is not laughing.
Mother Lauren’s drones advance, but a few stop. And then, human faces start to come out of their pink, fleshy lumps.
“We could neither breathe, nor could we die!” the people inside the drones say. “We were… trapped! In the moment between breaths! It was torture without end!”
Other Night Vale citizens give them thumbs-up, indicating empathy.
“No! I am a god!” shouts Mother Lauren.
“Yes,” says Kevin’s Father, “and like any god, you are defined by the belief of your worshippers.”
Mother Lauren’s face screws up in fury. And then she scowls, up again at the cosmos. “Yeah! Okay! Screw it!” she says. “This universe was getting too small for me anyway.”
And with that, she floats into the sky. The stars open like a door for her. She steps through-- she glances back, for a moment, at the city below her. “One day, I will return,” she says. “Or I won’t. T B D.” And then the stars swing shut behind her. And she is gone.
Gradually, the city comes back to itself. The people shake off the influence of Mother Lauren. The buildings. and the earth, and the trees return to themselves. All is as it was. Minus those who are dead, or injured, or missing, which is… a good amount of people.
At the center of all this is a boy and his father. The boy is holding his father’s hand. The Boy is holding his own hand. Kevin is holding Kevin’s hand, and together, Kevin walks back to his home, to live, if not always happily, then at the very least, ever after.
After the Kevins pass through it, Carlos pulls the plug on the portal, deciding that science, while worth some cost, is not worth every cost. Science must be in the service of humanity, never the other way around. It is a tool, not a goal.
Oh-- he says that the portal made a real cool “zap” sound as it turned off.
The Library Tweens--as they wish to be called--have declared the creation of a new teen militia, to protect Night Vale from any further incursions from Desert Bluffs Too, and anyone else who might want to mess with them. Tamika Flynn, who knows a thing or two about leading a teen militia, offered to be a mentor, but The Library Tweens put out a statement saying; “Uh, that’s okay, no thanks, ma’am.”
What lies ahead for Night Vale?
I cannot say. Our future is an unwritten slate. Our past is a diary scribbled in handwriting none of us can read, and our present is the view through a dirty window-- specifically, for me, the dirty window in this studio, through which I can see Amber Akinyi teaching her son how to ride a bike. I can see Michelle Nguyen and Maureen Johnson taking their poodle-earwig mix (or, poowig) out for a walk. I can see-- ooo, I can see a mysterious van with the symbol of a labyrinth on it with a man who is not tall and a man who is not short inside, driving some unknown cargo out into the scrublands.
In short, I see the day-to-day of a town who has been through… a lot, but remained, through it all, very much itself.
I see Night Vale.
And I love it.
Goodnight, my favorite town! Goodnight.
###
PROVERB: Hit me with your best shot! Ow! Okay, actually, that sucked! Uh, please hit me with one of your worse shots, instead, thank you. Ugh.
#welcome to night vale#wtnv#wtnv 250#welcome to night vale 250#wtnv father kevin#lmk if you think something needs to be changed/edited
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I'm just a librarian ✿ pt2
Steven Grant/Marc Spector x fem!reader
Summary: Your relationship with Steven is flourishing but on the other hand a mystery lurks at night, a white figure that you saw jumping through the roofs will keep you alert
A/N: I decided that the claim face for the reader will be Evelyn Camahan from "The mummy", but you can imagine it however you want, it's just a reference.
<---Part 1 Part 3---->
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I had returned to the library and Selma was waiting for me with an inquisitive look.
"How did you do in your date?"
She punctuated the last word on purpose just to make me blush.
"Date? Please it wasn't a date, it was my break time"
"Yeah, and you decided to spend it with the British with the tender smile"
Selma raised her eyebrows and gave me a knowing smile.
"Well, yeah, so what, do you have a problem with that?"
I straightened up and lifted my chin defiantly.
"C'mon, admit that you like him!"
I opened my mouth in surprise and grabbed a small book and then gently hit Selma's head, who looked at me amused without being able to stop laughing.
"Don't be ridiculous! I don't like him, he just seems like a nice person to me"
"Keep lying to yourself, I know how self-convincing feels. I practice it every day pretending that I like the boss"
I shook my head with a smile as we went back to our duties in the library. At nightfall I left work and came home. I walked through the streets carefree admiring the stars in the firmament, there was a beautiful full moon. The cobblestone streets I walked on made noise when I hit my heels. I was almost there when out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something in the sky, like a white figure running across the roofs of the low houses. Surprised I looked up trying to discover what had been that, I was waiting in silence to see if I heard something, just my heart beating fast. Until some quick footstep noises alerted me, they could be heard from above. I ran into an alley near the wall of a house. The figure passed over me again this time, but it was so fast that I couldn't capture almost anything, I had only seen a large white cloak blowing in the wind and a hooded head. Somewhat frightened I awkwardly retraced my steps towards my apartment.
the next day..
Now I was sitting again where always, at my desk looking out the windows but something was different. I felt worried or rather confused. In my head the images of the night before were mixed, that mysterious being running and jumping through the roofs of the houses like a fireball. Selma quickly, as always, took me out of my thoughts.
"Hello? Where is your mind? I told you if you would help me arrange the books on the shelves"
She snapped her fingers in front of me to wake me from my slumber.
"Oh sorry, I was thinking about… never mind, I'll help you"
We went to the shelves at the back of the library, we placed the ladder and each one went up in turns. Warm morning sunlight streamed in from the window.
"Are you going to tell me what you were thinking or not?"
Selma looked at me anxiously as she held the ladder for me, she looked like a capricious girl jumping up and down so that her mother could buy her an ice cream.
"It's nothing important, besides it's none of your business"
"Well-she snorts- I hope it wasn't Steven, remember that today you were going to visit him at the museum"
I almost fell off the stairs hearing that, I grabbed the books I put on the shelf with force and looked at her in surprise.
"What? Don't tell me you forgot? And then I'm the distracted one"
Shit, with what had happened last night I had completely forgotten about my date with Steven. I quickly got off the stairs, stumbling over the steps while Selma held it as best she could.
"Wow, wow slow down girl!"
"You have to help me, tell the boss I'm not here. Make up anything, that I got sick or whatever, please!"
I grabbed Selma's arms desperately.
"Fine but I don't know if-.."
"Thank you!!"
I hugged Selma who looked at me with disgust and ran away as fast as I could.
"You owe me one, the boss is not going to like this.."-she sigued
And as if she had called to him in thought, the boss appeared behind her with a frown and hands on hips.
"I just saw Y/n run away, may I ask why?"
"You see, uhmmm...she…was constipated"
"Beg you pardon?"
"Yeah..."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I didn't like leaving all the responsibility to my friend, but she will know how to get out of trouble easily, I hope. I got to the entrance of the museum, it was huge and reminded me of the parthenon. There were exhibits of all kinds, especially Egyptian, pyramids, sarcophagi etc. I saw Steven at the gift shop counter and walked over without hesitation.
"Hi Steven!"
Steven seemed distracted and when he heard my sweet voice he jumped and looked at me, I think he didn't expect to find me so quickly. I laughed funny
"I'm sorry, it seems that now I was the one who scared you"
"No, no you didn't scare me, you could never scare me. It's just that I didn't expect to see you like this suddenly"
Steven's eyes gleamed on me as his shy smile widened as he suddenly pulled out a small pyramid-shaped key ring from under the counter and held it out to me with an open palm as if it were a gold coin.
"This is for you"
My heart fluttered like a butterfly and I could feel lighter as if my feet were floating in the air. It was an extremely beautiful detail, even if it wasn't a giant bouquet of roses or an emerald ring, I still preferred small details but made with the heart.
"My God Steven, is it really for me?"
"Of course! And you don't have to pay me anything, don't worry about it. We have too many keyrings in stock so I'm giving you this one."
He gave it to me with both hands as if it were the most precious object he was giving me, I took it with trembling hands while biting my lip trying not to let the tears come out. Steven had an innocence and a heart of gold that made me emotional, he was definitely not a man like any other. In his being he did not have a hint of bad intentions and that was the purest and most beautiful thing he had seen in a man.
"Thanks Steven"
My voice came out hoarse with emotion and my eyes were wet so Steven misunderstood and got worried.
"Oh no, you don't like it right? I knew that I should give you something else, I even called my mom to ask her for advice but it seems that her cell phone is still broken because the message did not arrive and..-"
"No, is not that"
I grabbed Steven's wrist to make him stop.
"Steven… I loved the keychain, it's just… nobody had ever given me a gift like this, I mean, the fact that you thought of me and gave me a pyramid means a lot to me"
Steven sighed and his warm smile returned to his face. Then he showed me the entire museum, we walked from top to bottom looking at all the exhibits that were there. We arrived at a side where a mummy and its sarcophagus were exhibited.
"And here I present to you the great pharaoh Tutankhamun, ta-daa!"
The British opened his arms and approached the mummy as if he were a circus presenter. I giggled tenderly
"Did you know that for the Egyptians the afterlife looked like a field of reeds? A place where they could rest in peace"
Steven began to tell me things about what he knew about Egyptian history, it was nice to see how his face lit up and he lost the shyness to talk about what he likes. I only watched him happily and in silence
"Oh sorry am I boring you? Am I talking too much?"
His face turned to worry as he returned to his withdrawn attitude, I reached over and grabbed his cheeks laughing. He blushed like he never had before and was trying hard to maintain eye contact.
"How could I get bored with you Steven? You're a very educated person and I love seeing your face light up when you talk about what you're passionate about, it's cute"
Steven nodded gawking like a student on his first day of school. I walked away smiling to go down the stairs expecting him to follow me from behind. In response, he simply smiled shyly and sighed for a long time, staying in his place.
"You come?"
Steven nodded quickly and trotted after me. After that Steven walked me out. I was very quiet, I was still thinking about that white figure that I had seen on the roofs. He noticed.
"Is everything alright? You stayed very thoughtful and quiet"
"Oh, yes, I know, it's just… something strange happened to me yesterday. I was walking at night to get to my apartment when suddenly I saw someone go by jumping on the roofs.."
"Jumping? through the roofs?"
"Yes, I didn't see it well but it was like a person wrapped in a kind of white hooded cloak, I couldn't see his face"
Steven was looking at me with a confused frown.
"I know it's strange, surely you think I'm crazy"
He raised his eyebrows and waved his hands as if to shake the thought out of my head.
"No no no! I didn't think that! In fact, strange things happen to me very often, I think I'm the crazy one"
We both laugh at the absurdity of the situation. I said goodbye with a kiss on Steven's cheek who stared at me with dreamy eyes.
"Oh I almost forgot, remember to return the books tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure, later gators"
Steven waved his hand childishly as his face broke into a goofy grin. I looked at him smiling the way a mother watches her son do some innocent mischief. Yes, Steven was definitely someone special.
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ahhh I promise that in the next chapter it will get more interesting but it is a slow burn story, sorry
tag: @corpsebridenightamare
#one shot#imagine#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#x reader#female reader#marvel mcu#mcu#steven grant x reader#steven grant#marc spector#moon knight system#jake lockley#moonknight#khonshu#steven grant x y/n#steven grant x you#steven grant fluff#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector fluff#marc spector fanfiction#khonsu#layla el faouly#library#librarians#drabble#fluff#moon knight fanfic#moon knight x reader
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You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me (Ch.10, the final)
Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream. Тhe main characters were T. Cruise & H.Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced. The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.
Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)
Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure..
Warnings: Mythical creatures are mentioned in the text. Half of ch. 10 is completely from my dream. We're coming to the final. Catherine is smart (but I love smart girls). Riddles :) Fight scene. Adventures and fun are still here (I hope). Dumbest events ever. Romantic movie vibes. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.
Welcome to the big final! Thank you for your likes, comments and love! It was fun to create this story. Maybe not everything turned out the way I wanted but I'm happy I decided to write it.
Words: 5100
Light. Camera. Action :)
Totally reccommend to listen to Real Slow Motion - Imminence before the last chapter. I've beem listetning to that track for the last days for inspiration.
The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)
Taglist: @gingernut1314
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• Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
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The beam of light spread across the entire wall. At some point the wall began to dissolve like a mirage in the desert and the road appeared.
"I guess this is your Grand Line," Catherine said with a smile. "Maybe that's what was meant by the phrase 'believe your eyes'." There's the sun up ahead. So are we going? I don't know about you, but I'm confused by the word 'death' in the riddle. What if we don't make it out in time and stay here forever?"
“I guess, you’re right,” Buggy said almost silently.
They quickly gathered their belongings and crossed the passageway.
"Well, the third leg hasn't grown, that's good. If we don't get attacked by Horus's minions now, I think we're winners," Catherine laughed nervously. "Give me the map and compass!"
She spread everything out on the sand, lay on the ground with her belly and began to stare at the compass glass. The green beam pointed clearly to the right.
"Look, the map is completing the path!" exclaimed Jules.
"Buggy, you promised to take me to the party. Well then, this has to be the biggest and the funniest party ever. We're in the Sabaody Desert!"
Everyone looked first at Catherine, then at the coordinates in the diaries.
"So what I was looking at at the bar wasn't a joke or just numbers?" asked Buggy in surprise.
"Nope, those are the very real coordinates!!! We made it! See that beam pointing that way?" Catherine stood closer to him and held the compass up to his eyes.
"Cathie-pie, I'd take off my captain's hat if I had one. But I have to admit, we wouldn't have gotten this far without you!" He looked at her and smiled broadly.
"Quit with your cute dialogues. Have you forgotten why we're here?" asked Crocodile irritably. "Just because I helped you doesn't mean we're friends. I think you're misunderstanding a bit. I want the gold." He ran his hook along Catherine's neck.
"Hey, I told you already. Get your hands off her. And the hook, too," Buggy hissed through gritted teeth.
"I got it, I got it. You want the gold. It's over there." She pointed in the direction with her hand. "Judging by the map, we need to go around the wall we're at now and go up a bit. And, if Alabasta's book is to be believed, somewhere in there is the entrance to the cave with your treasure."
Crocodile lowered his hook. Catherine took a couple steps toward Buggy. "If there's anything in that cave, you owe me the most delicious ice cream in all of Egypt, got it?". He nodded and put a hand on her back.
They walked along a sandy cliff which was called Enies Lobby according to the book, periodically taking shelter from the sun in the shade.
“Besides ice cream, you owe me a whole cake. I wish there was an island like this. A Whole Cake island. Wouldn't that be cool?” Catherine asked, panting from the heat. “God, it’s too hot. I’m gonna die here.”
"I won't let you die, my pie. Listen. Can I ask? How'd you get into all this Egyptian stuff? Sister? Longtime love? Or following in your parents' footsteps?" Buggy looked at her with a corner of his eye.
"What? Oh, no. My mother worked in a bakery and my father was a journalist for a small newspaper. You know, one of those ones that travels out to cover unimportant events. But they made sure my sister and I had a normal life and an education. She went to engineering school, then fell in love with a pilot. As you can see, breaking up with him brought her and me here. As for me.. I went to the ancient literature faculty and found nothing better than being a librarian. But I'm happy with my life. At least I was. What about you? Who are your parents?"
"I don't really remember them, to be honest. Me and.. a former friend of mine.. were raised by another man. But that man died a long time ago, so-- "
"Oh, I'm sorry about the question then. I didn’t want.. you know.. So.. How did Buggy the Genius Jester end up in Cairo? Rika said you had your own circus or something."
"I just wanted to make a change in my life and decided that Egypt was the best place. And I'll be sure to take you to the circus the next time you come here to look for your sister after she breaks up with another guy again,” he cleaned his throat, “Listen.. Do y–..”
"Сathie, my sister!" Jules put her arm around Catherine's shoulder. "Promise me, when we get home, you and I will definitely go to the nearest bar and celebrate our returning."
"Get where? Home? Oh, yeah... We'll definitely go and celebrate something. All right, folks, I think we're here. You see, the map doesn't show anything further”. Catherine tried pointing the compass in different directions.
They were standing by a large sandy cliff, the top of which overhung the abyss. There were statues made of sand on the walls.
Crocodile turned to Catherine, "Well, where to now?"
"Wait, let me see the diary and the book. So... So... There's a drawing of an octagon in here. I'm willing to bet my life that this is the key to your treasure. We just need to find where it fits." She approached the statues.
"You realize that he won't let you or your sister out of here alive once he has a way to the treasure," Laura's quiet voice came from behind Catherine's back.
"Why are you suddenly concerned about my life? You're the one who dragged me here in the first place."
"I don't know if this is going to sound dumb, but you're kind of a normal person. But I didn't willingly give you the tickets either. Everyone has their reasons for doing the wrong thing, right? Unfortunately, I have one. Anyway.. Sorry. I didn’t want to."
“What?” Catherine turned around, but Laura was already gone. She looked at the wall again, “One more riddle.. People! One more riddle!”
Everyone's father is the sun,
The main way will tell you his son.
Try to go through danger road,
It will lead you to the gold.
“And?” Rika asked. “Honestly, sometimes I think you're just stalling.”
“Everyone's father is the sun… The god Ra was considered the supreme ruler of the world and the father of all pharaohs. We need to find his symbol or pattern. He is usually depicted with the head of a bird.”
"They all have heads like that around here!", Jules said indignantly.
"No, there should be a sun above his head.”.
"There's a similar one to what you described," Buggy beckoned Catherine with his hand. She squatted down next to him.
She whispered, "Listen, Laura came up to me out of the blue. And..."
“News? Updates?” Crocodile hissed and approached them. He placed the hook around Catherine's neck.
"That's the way it is, the beehive. The riddle says the son of the sun will show us the way. And I don't know what the difficulty of the road it says here is, but you know, the Egyptians liked to scare for nothing."
“The son of the sun? What's the point of these words?” Crocodile groaned.
Catherine walked in circles and tapped her temples with her fingers. “The son of the sun.. The son of the sun.. It's Horus!”
“What?” Jules squealed.
“Horus. He’s the son of Ra! We need to find his drawing!” Catherine snapped her fingers.
"And what does this god of Horus of yours look like?" asked Rika
"He has a Falcon's Head... Look for the falcon head."
"Then there he is. On the next wall," Jules pointed her finger at the drawing.
“Yes! Yes! That's him! That’s Horus! See, his beak is pointing toward the cave passage. Wait! There are lines here. See, it's also repeated in the diary and the book. Which means that Alabasta got to this place. “Where the moon meets the sun”. What does that mean?” Catherine sat down on the sand and rested her hands on her knees.
"Have you noticed that all the riddles are mostly about the sun and light? Could that mean something?" Laura asked, sitting down on the sand.
"I have a hunch it has to do with the god Ra. He's the sun god and was considered the most important in Egyptian mythology," Catherine rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of the aisle.
"And what are those drawings on the ceiling?" Jules pointed her fingers to the obscure side of the lines.
"Looks like an eye of some sort," Buggy muttered.
"An eye... An eye. Exactly!" Catherine suddenly jumped up and ran forward.
"Cath?!" Jules shouted in the direction Catherine had run off in.
"This way!!!" came from somewhere in the depths.
Without wasting a second everyone ran in the direction the voice came from.
"I told you not to do that!" Buggy walked over to Catherine, leaned over and stared intently into her eyes.
"I... well... just..." she mumbled uncertainly. She looked up at the ceiling and pointed to more drawings with her hand. "See? Barely visible lines that look like stars or eyes. They lead somewhere forward. The main way will tell you his son. As I said Horus was the son of Ra. The left eye of Horus symbolizes the Moon and the right eye symbolizes the Sun. Guess where they meet?"
"Where the treasure lies?" Crocodile and Rika asked in unison.
“Probably.. According to the book, there's a narrow road ahead, right along this sand wall. Listen, the beehive, can you turn into... well... I don't know... a sand bridge so we can all cross over?"
"You know, when we're done, the first thing I'll do is cut off your long tongue, and then I'll cut off your pretty little sister's tongue too if I have to," Crocodile hissed and ran his hook across Jules' throat.
"Alright, alright! Please don't touch her!" Catherine's face changed. "She hasn't done anything to you..."
Crocodile turned around and walked forward, pushing Rika up behind him. Catherine glanced at her. Rika laughed evilly and hugged Crocodile. For the first time in a week, Catherine felt uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?" asked Buggy, when Jules came over.
"No, Buggy, I'm not okay. We're out in the middle of nowhere, looking for some treasure for you and that freak. My sister and I will probably get killed either way. And you-- You'll be chopped up into some kind of salad like Cole Slaw, but you won't care because you'll put yourself back together again. And I'll die here. Hey, I’m warning you when I’ll turn into a mummy, I'll come for you. Do you understand?"
“At least you'll be a cute mummy.."
“Why do you always have to mock me?” She rolled her eyes.
"Come on! Let's find a gold piece for me after all.” he smiled.
They reached a narrow sandy road that ran above the abyss. With each step, the path crumbled a little at a time, making their feet slip. While Crocodile clung to the wall with his hook, the others used small axes. Catherine kept whispering to herself, "I'm not going to die in the fucking cave," and occasionally glanced around to see if Jules was still there. They reached another cave with a huge hole in the rock. The bright sun illuminated the whole space.
Catherine looked up at the ceiling. "See. The lines have converged. And see the large pattern of the eye. It's not just an eye. It's a Wadjet. The Eye of Horus. It symbolizes fire and light and protects everything and everyone. And also known as “All seeing eye". And he's not looking sideways, he's looking down. Who's got the map?”
Rika handed Catherine the map. She took out the compass and held it up to her eyes. "I don't understand a thing. It's like the green beam is going round and round. We couldn't have got the road wrong. Jules, hold the book, please. Buggy, you hold the diary."
Catherine began to compare notes. "We're definitely in the right place, but I don't understand. It says there should be some kind of ring or lever. But where is it?"
Rika came up behind her and looked at the compass as well. "You're standing on it."
"What?"
"You're standing on the lever, move aside!", she pushed Catherine out of her seat.
“Hey. You could be more gentle.”
They all began to run their hands over the sand, trying to clear the surface. Under the thick layer of sand, a large circular stone ring with an octagon in the center appeared.
"The octagon!" whispered Catherine.
"Holy mother!" echoed Buggy.
"So it's all true?" said Rika faintly.
"Have we found the treasure?" asked Crocodile.
"Not yet... Crocodile, Buggy, you need to try and pull this thing off. It's obviously got to go up. Again, according to the records...," Catherine flipped through the pages of the book and ran her fingers over the drawings.
Crocodile and Buggy walked around the ring for a long time, then made several unsuccessful attempts to pick it up.
"Are you sure it goes up this way and not the other way round?" Buggy asked panting.
"Alabasta clearly spells the word 'rise.'" Catherine continued to run her fingers over the lines.
"I may sound silly now, but have you tried putting that octagon you were talking about on top of the drawing?" came Laura's voice from the corner. Everyone turned around to look at her. Catherine shrugged her shoulders.
Rika picked up the octagon and put it on the drawing. The five of them stood near the circular stone and drilled it with their eyes. Suddenly there was a creaking sound and the stone slowly began to rise.
"Pinch me somebody!" Catherine whispered softly. "It's like a real adventure movie, isn't it?"
The stone rose all the way up and stopped, making a heavy sound. They stepped forward to get a closer look at it.
Catherine gently ran her hand over the surface. "Look. Ankh is painted here too. And more than one. And the eye of the god Ra."
"And what does that mean?" Crocodile asked with a tone like he was already losing patience.
"Well how would I know, I'd have to look at the records."
"I'll give you five minutes," Crocodile slowly approached Jules.
"Okay, okay. Why is it all here?
The last border will fall,
When you shed a few tears on the wall.
If you’re not who is pure of mind,
Then the cave will leave you behind.”
“I’m losing my patience!” Crocodile hissed.
“Honey, relax, we are so close to the treasure!” Rika suddenly hugged him. “Let that bitch do her work”.
“"We need water! Does anyone have water?" Catherine suddenly ran toward the rock. "See this ankh. This symbol is also considered the key of life. What do we have the key to life? Water! Also in Egyptian mythology, it is believed that all living things were created from the tears of Ra. Life is water. We need to pour water on this stone!"
"I have some," Jules walked over to the stone and poured some water on it.
A noise was heard in the rock wall. They all walked toward it.
"There's an octagon symbol here too. I suggest you try to take that key and put it here," Catherine pointed at the rock.
Buggy detached his hand, took the key and handed it to Catherine.
"Give it to me!", yelled Crocodile, abruptly snatching up the octagon. and placing it in a pattern in the wall.
“One more riddle. Come on! Egyptians, are you guys serious?" Catherine grabbed her head.
“I have no time for this shit and for your riddles! Open the fucking door!” Crocodile yelled pulled out a gun and pointed it at the back of Catherine's head.
"Yeah! I don't know how to open it just like that. I didn't put up those fucking ancient Egyptian locks. And you pointing that thing at me isn't going to make it go any faster!"
"Listen, clown, your girl is starting to bore me. Maybe I should shoot her in the head?"
"What?" Buggy interjected, scanning the cave space with his eyes. "Oh, what do I care about her? I'm here for the same thing you are."
Catherine turned in his direction and looked at him with round eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, Cathie-pie, I told you from the beginning I only wanted gold!"
Rika laughed loudly. "Oh, wow. I guess they lived happily ever after isn't part of the Egyptian myths. Open the fucking door!" She took Jules by the neck and pushed her toward Catherine. "Give her a hand or something!"
"Yeah, sis. You sure know how to pick your boyfriends," Jules whispered. "I knew he'd trade you for the gold the first chance he got."
She hissed through gritted teeth. "He's not my boyfriend. He's a fucking clown! Listen...
To the east you look around,
You'll see the sandy ground,
Be aware it could be a trick,
You should push a small goldbrick.."
“And? There's a small goldbrick next to the key!” Crocodile pointed at the wall.
“The translation is wrong.” Catherine whispered, checking the diary and the book. “No-no-no-no-no-no! What is the fuck?”
“What's wrong?” Rika and Crocodile asked in unison.
“The map's changing!” Catherine shook the map in her hands.
“How is it changing?” Buggy asked with surprise in his voice.
“Are you fucking kidding with me?” Crocodile put the gun harder against Catherine's temple.
“What the fuck?! Look! There was a passageway here, now it's gone, and there's a river instead of a road.” Catherine pointed at the map. “I guess someone doesn't want us to go that way.”
“We'll just stick to the plan. You're the smart one. Find me a way.” Buggy suddenly approached Catherine and looked at her and winked.
“I hate you. How cou..”. She didin't finish the phrase because he put his finger to her lips.
“I told you. I’m looking for this treasure and some chicken-brained girl and her sister aren't going to stop me.” Buggy winked at her again.
“I have no time for your bullshit!” Crocodile growled and and started lowering the trigger guard.
Suddenly there was the sound of a gunshot.
“Honey…” Rika's voice came through.
Catherine and Jules turned their heads and saw that there was blood dripping from Rika's side. She started to fall to the sand. Laura was holding a gun.
"I told you he wouldn't let you go. Sorry, red-haired girl, I just picked the wrong side once. I played you for time. Run."
"You cunt!" Crocodile walked sharply toward Laura and impaled her with the hook. “I knew you couldn't be trusted.”
Jules and Catherine's eyes darted around. "What the hell?"
He threw Laura's body to the ground, walked over to Rika.
"I'm okay," she wheezed, "Luckily that girl missed. I told you a long time ago she was probably messing around with the clown. Where is he, by the way?"
"Where's your boyfriend?" Crocodile ran up to Catherine, grabbed her by the neck.
"He's not my boyfriend! I have no idea where he is. Twisted off with his tail between his legs."
“I don't have time for this shit!” Crocodile went back to the wall and pressed the brick with all his might. “Read the fucking diary!”
“I can bet my life that you won’t find your gold without the fucking map! By the way. Hello. The map has changed!” Catherine shouted.
“Alright. I gave you a choice.” He stabbed Jules in the leg with the hook.
“Catherine, run!” Jules whispered.
Catherine hesitated for a few seconds and ran toward the hole in the rock.
"Well no, come here, you bitch!" Rika, slightly wobbly, darted after her.
The mountain starts to shake.
Rika grabbed Catherine’s legs and pulled her to the ground.
"Get off of me!" She tried to fight Rika off.
"Well no, you trashy bitch. I'm going to finish you myself and then your little sister." Rika pulled Catherine towards her by her legs and the belt of her pants. Catherine noticed the hatchet Rika had dangling from her belt. She tried to reach for it several times, but Rika fought back. On her next attempt Catherine managed to pull the hatchet out of Rika's pants.
"Try chop-chop ability, bitch!" She swung to hit Rika's arm with the axe, but missed. "Damn, I thought this was going to be cool like in the movies!"
She saw Crocodile trying to open the door, holding Jules up with his foot. The sand began to slump over them. Catherine tried to get up, but Rika grabbed her and pulled Catherine to her.
A chunk of the floor failed beneath them.
"No!" Crocodile shouted furiously. "My gold!!"
"Crocodile!!!" Rika shouted with all her might. She and Catherine were hanging from a small handrail that was bending more and more under their weight. The floor was collapsing downward more and more.
"Rika!!!" he turned around in the sand, picked her up and lifted her up.
"Well, of course!" Catherine muttered.
"Have a nice stay. You'll look pretty good among the mummies!". Rika laughed. Crocodile picked her up and they rushed toward the hole in the rock.
"Juules! Fuck!" Catherine yelled with all her might. The torrent of falling sand was starting to make her hands slip. She looked down. "Jesus, that's a long way to fall!".
She felt a hand on her brisket. "Jule-e-es!"
"I've got you, sister!" she clutched the syially bleeding wound with one hand, the other trying to hold on to Catherine. "Damn it, promise me you'll go on a diet when we get it back!"
The floor was crumbling more and more. Suddenly someone pulled Jules back out by the scruff of her necks into the air, tossing her closer to the hole.
“Fuck! Jules!!”
She tried to pull herself up, but it didn't work. At the same second, she felt hands on her arms.
"Jul... Buggy? You're back?"
"Of course I'm back, Cathie-pie. It's not like I went anywhere."
"I thought you said you only cared about your gold," she muttered as he pulled her out.
"I winked at you!"
"No, you didn't! You told the dumbest lines ever!!"
"Why on earth would I not wink at you and then save you? You were probably so blinded by my beauty that you didn't notice." He pulled her to him for a split second.
"You're unbelievable," she rolled her eyes.
"We'll discuss all this later. We need to get out of here, because anytime this whole cave is going to go to hell. We need to run as fast as we can forward and jump as fast as possible”
“Ok, Run. Definitely run... What? How do we jump? Where do we jump?
“Cathie-pie, down, it's our only chance to survive.”
“Great, our only chance is to fly into the abyss? Jules! Please! Buggy, take her, please! You know, you can save her using your chop-chop thing. I’ll jump. I promise.”
“But..”
“We have no time. I’ll be fine!”
He quisckly run up to Jules. “Well, hello, Catherine’s sister. Let’s fly a little”. Buggy grabbed her in his arms and they rushed toward the crevice in the rock.
Catherine just for a second saw him split apart, but then a great wave of sand caused by the collapsing cave obscured visibility.
"Oh, Catherine, amazing. Your second dumbest idea ever! Clear your mind and run. Clear your mind and run!"
The mountain is already falling apart and throwing some pieces up.
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Catherine woke up lying on the ground. She looked around quickly. Neither the cave nor the rock was gone.
"Jules!!!" she shouted, wiping her eyes from the sand.
"I'm here, I'm alive!" Catherine saw Jules lying on her back waving at her. "That Crocodile hurt me of course, but I'll live. God, I hope we're not lying on top of him somewhere right now."
"You're such a fool!" Catherine crawled up to her on all fours and hugged her tightly. "Where's Buggy?"
"I don't know, he left me here, then he rushed in your direction. But then the rock collapsed and I never saw him again."
"Buggy?" they shouted together.
"I'm here!" his voice came from somewhere in the distance. Catherine squinted and saw him walking in their direction, picking himself up piece by piece.
"Thank goodness! You're alive!" She ran to him, stumbling in the sand and hugged him tightly around the neck.
"Oh, my cotton candy, you're going to suffocate me! You alright? Jules, what about you?"
“What? Yes.. I’m fine. By the way, we haven't really been introduced,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“Hah! You’re funny! Buggy the Clown.” he said and made a gesture.
“No-no, Jules. He's not just a clown. He's “The One and the Only” Buggy the Clown.” Catherine laughed and pressed her forehead to his.
"Hm.. So... What about the treasure? Lost forever? Along with the book and the compass?” Jules pointed to what was left of the cave.
“I guess..” Catherine replied and pressed her head to Buggy’s chest.
“Oh my God! I just realized what happened... We fell from there... He did it... I'm here... Oh... my goodness holy!" Jules said in a thin voice and started to pass out.
"Juuuuuules?!"
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Ladies and gentelmen, welcome to Cairo Internatioanl Airport.
"Well, girls. Thank you for your time. It was really fun."
"Thank you, Buggy… but fun? No! Oh, my god, I cannot wait to get home and take a hot bath," Jules said with a sigh. "Nono, I’m definitely done with this shit. This Isn't for me. I'm gonna go home and ask Ethan out. I'll stay home and let him run around the world and solve impossible missions"
"Sounds like a good plan," Buggy said with a smile. "Cathie, my cotton candy, are you coming? Don't you want to say goodbye to me?"
Buggy glanced at Catherine.
"What? Yeah. Sure. I’m coming," Catherine stood next to the trunk of the car and discreetly wiped away her tears.
Ladies and gentlemen, the flight from Cairo to Loguetown will depart in a half hour. All passengers are invited to board.
"Well…," Buggy said with a slight tremble in his voice and came closer to her, "This information is probably for you."
"I guess.. Yeah," Catherine hugged Buggy around his waist tightly, buried her temple in his chest and closed her eyes as hard as she could. "Thank you… For everything... These days were really fun."
Buggy chuckled, hugged her, pulled her closer and started stroking his hand down her back.
"Catherine, sister. Come on! Hurry up, I don't want to be late," Jules shouted as she stood at the airport door.
"Fuck… I’m coming!!!" Catherine shouted in annoyance towards Jules. She buried her forehead in Buggy's shoulder, keeping her eyes closed. "Sorry. It didn't work out with those treasures. But I hope, one day you find what you are looking for."
Ladies and gentlemen, the flight from Cairo to Loguetown will depart in 15 minutes. Аll passengers are invited to board.
"Shit, I really have to go now," Catherine hugged him even tightly, rested the top of her head under his chin, her eyes were still closed and she felt the tears begin to treacherously come. "Goodbye, my silly clown."
She grabbed her bag and walked quickly to her sister.
"Goodbye, my red-haired pie," Buggy whispered softly.
Boarding completed.
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The epilogue.
—-3 months later —-
"Are you ready?" he asked her standing next to a car.
"S-sorry, I‘m late again, aren't I?" She popped out of the house to him wearing one sneaker, the other she held in her hand.
"Kind of.. Yeah, but I've gotten used to it in the last three months."
"Ass.. So… our sails are set?" She closed the door, sat down on the steps and began to put on her second sneaker.
"I don't know about the sails, but the tires are definitely ready," he kicked an inflated wheel with his boot.
"You're my best! Well.. according to the map I was able to get..," she said, approaching him.
"You mean “you were able to steal." he put his hand on her back and kissed her temple.
"Shut up! I had a good teacher!" She put the map on the bonnet and ran her finger over it. "So... we're gonna have to go this way."
"God!" He started laughing.
"What?"
"What have I done in my life to deserve you?" He turned her towards him and looked intently into her eyes.
"Well, first you pissed me off, and then you saved my life. Plus, you promised me a private jet home, which I didn't get. So I had to stay here to punish you." she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on his big red nose and lips. "I love you, my Buggy Bear."
"I love you too, my cotton candy," he replied quietly and kissed her forehead. "But I still think the nickname you gave me is terrible."
"Just deal with it, you have no choice now," she lightly hit him on the nose with her index finger and ran her hand through his loose blue hair. "All in all, we have at least 5-6 days on the road. But, according to the map, we should come across small towns where we can spend our nights and replenish our supplies. And by the way, just for your information, you owe me a romantic dinner. Well, because of you.. we didn't get to finish the one you set up for me a couple days ago," her face turned red.
“My fault, admit it,” he said against her lips, then took her hand and kissed her wrist.
"I hate you," she gently pushed him away. “So-o-o… we can go on a new adventure!” She took a couple of steps back and began a little joyful dance. "Wait! Does this treasure have a name? Just so it's not like last time..."
"I've heard people call it the One Piece."
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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 9
Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2160 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.
I looked for Altan everywhere, but I could not find him. I was at the market every morning looking for him. The vendors grew annoyed at my presence every morning. They told me I was bad for business with my grim expression. I didn’t really pay them any mind because I was too concerned about other things.
I told myself to stop worrying, that Altan clearly had just moved on now that things were done between us. I knew he had left home to get away from his father - or at least I assumed that from the way he talked - and I knew he likely couldn’t stay here forever. I had just hoped that all of those talks we had would mean something more…that maybe I could take the time to get to know him more.
I reopened my forge, tried to resume my work, but found that my mind would always stray to Altan and my hand would go up to the vial on my neck, playing with it. There was just this nagging feeling.
I was useless, completely useless. I found nothing could keep my focus for longer than a few minutes. My mind started to paint a different picture. What if Altan hadn’t left by choice? What if something was wrong? Something was telling me not to rest, not to settle down until I found him.
I finally grew desperate enough to ask some of the inns around if they knew of him. Each one would consider me warily before answering.
Luck would find me after a couple days of this, when the wife of one of the innkeeper’s pulled me down to take a seat and tell me all about the sweet boy she took care of that matched Altan’s description exactly. She handed me a piling plate of food - told me I looked like I could use it - before she told me all about how he would come and play at nights for the tenants.
“He had such an angelic voice. He sounded just like one of those glorious elves I hear about.” She reminisced. “He hid himself in his room for almost a week after a certain point. I left food at his door, and when he came out, he was a sorry mess.” She shook her head, her voice turning morose, “Not long after that, some official men came looking for him. They told us that he was the son of a duke. They grabbed his things and went and found him at the bathhouse and I suppose he’s back home.” She shook her head again. “He really was such a sweet young man.”
I felt my blood grow cold at the news of Altan being taken by his father’s people. His father was a Duke, a man of high rank. That meant Altan was also a noble. Immediate feelings of inadequacy and shame overwhelmed me. Who was I to Altan if nothing more than a distraction from his comfortable life? Maybe I was nothing more than a dalliance for the summer. I left the inn, feeling deflated and unsure what to do next.
I couldn’t sleep that night, my mind still stuck on Altan. I could swear that I was still experiencing lordhovid with all the time I was consumed thinking about him. I was worried. Genuinely worried. He didn’t say hardly two words about his father…but somehow I knew, I just knew that it meant something bad for him to be going back to him. He must have run away for a reason.
He had told me how much he had admired me and how I was his first friend. I couldn’t take any of that lightly. If he needed help, I might be the only person who could help him.
The next day, I found myself stepping into the town’s library for the first time ever. The librarian looked at me with reluctance and disbelief that an orc would be in a library of all places. I ignored their ignorant comments, “Do you have any family charts of the Dukes that rule around here?”
“What would you need it for?” The librarian asked.
“Do you have one or not?” I pressed, my tone impatient.
The librarian’s eyes widened in fright and scurried away, returning with a book from a few years back that lists all of the Noble family names throughout the continent.
I was still not the best at reading the common language, so I borrowed a paper and quill and wrote Altan’s name out so I could see exactly what it looked like and then my finger trailed over the lists, looking for any matches. The librarian watched me closely as I studied each name, one by one. I finally stopped when I found his name under the Family Hilmar. I ran my finger across his name again and again. Altan Hilmar. Altan Hilmar. His father was Taliesin Hilmar of Berdusk. His mother Telmira from Evermeet. A sun elf.
The librarian aided me with a copy of a map that I studied finding the paths that would take me to Berdusk and I left with the librarian watching me with disbelief.
The next day, I closed my forge again to the dismay of all my neighbors and customers and I was on the road again, this time with the intent to find Altan. I hoped that maybe seeing him would help me make sense of all of the feelings and thoughts I kept having about him and maybe I could help him too.
The maps I followed that led me to Berdusk made the travel look straightforward. I kept to the main roads most of the time. I found my hand on the vial more and more often as my mind strayed to Altan through my walking. He was the main occupying thought in my brain. How was he? Was he safe? Is he happy? Am I wrong to do this? What if this is all a fools’ errand? Will he be happy to see me? What will I do when I see him? I pondered that last one a lot and I couldn’t deny that my arms around his waist was a frequent vision in my head. I still wondered what that would feel like.
When I entered the gates of Berdusk, not more than 6 days later, I noticed that most people’s eyes fell on me. It was not much of a diverse town. They were mainly human and they all seemed to watch me with a wary gaze. I caught one eye of a dragonborn who looked at me with an understanding nod. I nodded back before passing on and making my way towards the first inn I could spot.
“We don’t make beds for folks like you.” The innkeeper said, glaring.
I nodded, “I’ll pay for a room with two beds then.”
“Don’t got any of those.” He said.
I could spot the lie in his answer, but I didn’t fight it, instead I gave him my coin and walked up the stairs to where my room was.
What in all of the nine hells was I doing here?
I played with the vial again and stared at the crimson liquid. I had pondered that little vial a lot while on the road and had considered maybe drinking it. It would have eased my anxiety of knowing exactly where Altan was, but I also didn’t know if it would be safe for him if I did that. I needed to know where he was before I did anything so foolish. Plus, I didn’t know what I really wanted yet. To see Altan, yes. To mate with him…that one still terrified me. But less so. If anyone were to be my mate…oh hells, these thoughts were so unfamiliar to me.
The bed was incredibly uncomfortable and I didn’t sleep well, but I awoke early in the morning and made my way towards the large mansion that sat above the rest of the town. I knew that would be where the Duke would be. However it was little use trying to make an appointment to meet with the Duke. The guards up front scoffed at my asking and dismissed me immediately without a dire need. I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable in this place.
I paced through the streets, my eyes always on the mansion above. I kept hoping I could spot him. I kept hoping I would find the answer I needed to know he was here, that he was okay.
I never really got accustomed to the way people stared at me, and I felt like all of them were holding back their insults until I did something wrong. I was constantly on my guard. I didn’t really sleep much either. I started to have funny dreams of Altan alone in a room, separated from everyone and everything, pounding against a sealed door, begging to be set free, for someone to let him out. It troubled me every time I woke up from it. I didn’t know if it was my own brain making up this story…or if I should put more weight behind this dream.
I found myself on the main thoroughfare of the town when I noticed a crowd forming along both sides of the road. There was an excited energy about the people. I hung to the back of the forming crowds and wound through the shadows, staying out of sight. I was about to head inside and make myself scarce when I heard the people around me talking.
“It’s hunting day. That’ll be the Duke and his men coming down that hill” I heard a woman say to another woman.
I jerked my head up and looked up the road and felt my heart beat fast as I watched as a large gathering of men on horses slowly made their way down the main road. A pale-skinned man in a red robe was taking the lead on his own steed, looking proud as he waved to the people. His hair was dark, graying, and he wore a circlet. To his right was an even larger man with red-brown hair, a beard and dressed in armor. The men behind were also all armoured and their faces were concealed in helmets, except for three young riders that rode in the center of the guard. Each were young, tawny-skinned and bright eyed, more elfin in their features. And there in the middle, was the one with crimson curls and a strained smile on his face as he waved.
Altan.
My Altan.
My breath caught as I saw him there. He was there. He was there. He was right there.
Lordhovid was nothing compared to the want I felt then to jump in front of the horses and stall them from going any further.
I gripped the vial and shouted his name before I could stop myself.
He looked over in my direction, searching for who could have said his name. He drew his horse back and slowed, looking through the crowds. His smile fell when he saw me and over the din of the cheers and adulations from the crowds I could only see him mouth “Drun.” And I saw the same longing look in his eyes. We understood each other in that moment.
Our eyes did not stray from each other as the gathering passed on and even as he was going further and further from me, his head swiveled to keep me in his sight. He yelled something back at me, but I couldn’t hear or read his lips. I swam through the crowd, trying to keep him in my sight. I couldn’t let him go.
“Altan!” I yelled again. Something in me, something I didn’t dare name, was pushing me to stay near him. I couldn’t lose him.
I stood, devastated to watch him leave me. I pushed my way through the crowds and wrestled my way down the thoroughfare, doing everything in my power to keep him in my sights. I needed to know where he was going. I cut through alleyways to pass through the crowds. My orc hunting skills had never really left me and as I sniffed the air, I could follow the dust trail left behind by the horses and I cut through every back road I could until I could find them again at the bottom of the hill.
Altan’s eyes met mine again and he shook his head. “Don’t.”
He was warning me. I glanced over to the man at the front of the team and I saw steel in his eyes as he met my gaze. He turned back to Altan, then back at me. His gaze hardened and he urged the horses to go faster. His eyes followed me as they rode passed and I met his gaze with my own steely glare. He would not have my Altan.
#oublietteodette#monster boyfriend#orc boyfriend#orc x half elf#dnd inspired#set in faerun#monster lover#monster romance#orc#orc romance#monster fucker#slow burn#romance#my fic#writing#gay romance#my fic writing#fantasy story#creative writing#bg3#writeblr#mm romance
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book recommendations
@lavampira AND @narrativefoiltrope beloveds tagged me! thank you for the tag dani and i'm still soooo thrilled you loved goth western so much <3
tagging: @nerdferatum and @winesharksea and anyone else! tbh if you're a mutual of mine and you're on storygraph hmu, i love following other people and seeing what they're reading.
1. the last book I read:
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory by Caitlin Doughty — I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting to tear up from a memoir detailing her year working for a crematory, but it ended up being a very touching experience in understanding how Caitlin went from college graduate to eventual Ask a Mortician (one of my fave youtubers I miss her so much). It is a book that deals with death, both the traumatic and the relatively peaceful, so maybe not the LIGHTEST of reads, but one I actually wanna re-visit soon!
2. a book I recommend:
The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin — I got recommended this series by @queerbrujas, and wow! I think if you're someone whose interested for a sort of, soft start into sci-fi, the elements are there and add value, but the emotional arcs and world building that unfolds is just so masterfully done. Once I really got into the first book, I tore through the next two in the series with relative ease.
3. a book that I couldn’t put down:
Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo — This is just a super fun fantasy read!! It makes me wanna read more like, fast paced heist sort of novels. Each character in the ensemble has a strong personality so they all stand out from each other, but they complement each other well and offer interesting relationships with each other! I was so enamored by the book I had to run out to a store to buy the sequel the night I finished it.
4. a book I’ve read twice (or more):
The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir — Funny thing is, I almost never re-read books because I feel like, good God I already have so many on my to be read list that I keep adding onto, I don't have time to re-read books. But this series has a ton of re-readability value, and it's almost necessary to take a second or third or fourth pass (depending on how insane you are) to pick up on the subtleties and the continuous narrative of themes that Muir puts down once you get past the memes and lesbians. I'm putting the whole series here because I've read Gideon the Ninth, Harrow the Ninth, and Nona the Ninth 2-3 times now and will probably re-read again before Alecto the Ninth comes out (impatient grumbling).
5. a book on my TBR:
Sterling House by Alix E. Harrow — Can I be completely honest, I actually don't know that much about this book. A librarian gave me a little book magazine when I was picking up some books one day and this book was on the cover. And the cover was just very pretty. I'm a very shallow person, you see. Also a bit like a bird because I see something pretty and I want it. But I also really wanna read Dungeon Meshi, so there's that too.
6. a book I’ve put down:
The Telling Room: A Tale of Love, Betrayal, Revenge, and the World's Greatest Piece of Cheese by Michael Paterniti — This book was honestly such a drag to read. Slow paced and at 80% in, I still hadn't gotten to the confrontation between the original cheesemaker and his best friend who sold his family's cheese and business for money, which is so hyped up. There's a point to it taking so fucking long, and the point is, that's apparently just how the people the author visited told stories. Long winding tales with bunches of offshoots. Probably great as an orally told story. Bit miserable as written word.
7. a book on my wishlist:
The Unclaimed: Abandonment and Hope in the City of Angels by Stefan Timmermans, Pamela Prickett — This one I saw in an e-mail for new books that came out in March, I think, and I have an interest in funeral practices and issues in modern day death management, thanks to being such a big fan of Caitlin Doughty. This book deals with the growing phenomenon of the unclaimed dead, which got touched upon in one of Caitlin's books, but not expanded upon. I try not to buy books if I can avoid it, but this one being so new and probably a little too niche for my library, I'll have to purchase it if I wanna read it!
8. a favorite book from my childhood:
??? — I don't think I have one to speak of that I can remember. I remember really being enchanted with some book about a girl finding a secret garden, so maybe it was Literally just The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgsen Burnett. Or like, I really liked the kid's book about the old lady who swallows a fly. Does that count???
9. a book you would give to a friend:
Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson — This book was recommended to me by a friend, specifically the audiobook version. And wow, yeah! I kind of judge audiobook, and really narrator quality, by this one! The narrator put so much love and emotion into narrating the book, which really highlighted the emotional high points and made them punchier. This book may have made cry a little because I am always a sucker about characters who feel they don't fit in anywhere, who feel odd, who feel different, but find support and community and love with other people who feel the same way. So, like, I would definitely give this book to someone if they wanted an introduction to how good audiobooks can be.
10. a book of poetry or lyrics you own:
The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems by Pablo Neruda — I bought the bilingual version of this book last year so I could see how Spanish is used in poetry, and then found out that he has a complex way of using Spanish so maybe it's not that useful. <3 And then I didn't read it at all, it's still on my bookshelf. Judging me. u_u I'll get to it one day.
11. a nonfiction book you own:
In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado — Don't remember how this book got on my radar, but I went out and bought it and was so pleasantly surprised by how the style Machado uses in it to detail her memoir of an abusive relationship. So it's not a light read whatsoever, but just by style alone made it very evocative, it almost reads like literary fiction. I never thought about approaching memoirs or non-fiction in what I figure is a kind of non-standard way, so it stands out from the other non-fiction books I've read.
12. what are you currently reading:
Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver — So this is apparently a sort of, like, modern retailing of Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, which I would have got, except like, I'm not that big of a literary nerd. So I had to look that up. Really, it caught my attention because I'm currently re-listening to a fave podcast, Old Gods of Appalachia, and this book is set in like, 80s-90s Appalachia so it's adjacent enough to my interest. So far it is masterfully written and has such a strong voice for the narrator and protagonist. It's also a thick ass book, well over 500 pages which is a bit out of my usual range, but it's been nice to sit down with a longer story that feels like I'm sitting down to listen to the guy tell me his life's story.
13. what are you planning on reading next:
??? — Bruv who knows? I don't plan these things until I'm done with whatever I'm reading now u.u. I have a little gay romance I bought during indie bookstore day and I also promised @sysba to read some other Chinese manhua with some other sad tragic gay boys. It'll probably be that one.
#tag game#soz i don't really have any hard hitting childhood books i remember that aren't like. HP. unfortunately.#and i'm just not listing that for obvious reasons u.u
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For the first time in his rather short life, Ping regretted not taking with him a ceremonial tablet every official had. Aside from showing his rank, the damn thing was completely useless. Its only saving grace was its weight. Well, it's not like there weren't other heavy objects around him. So he grabbed the heftiest book from the shelf, waited until a young woman stepped back from the ladder, and let the book fall to the floor.
The resounding THUMP was as loud as he had expected it to be. Yet the young woman didn't shriek or yell, merely, she turned to him so fast her outer robe fell from her shoulder. Her jade-like greyish-green eyes heavily lined with kohl were almost completely round from fear or from astonishment. But she took hold of herself fast. There she was - one moment pressing herself to the bookshelves and the next moment giving him a slow, dignified bow. - This worthless maid asks for forgiveness, Lord Grand Chancellor.
- Really? For what?
He remembered her from the last Ceremony of the Three Enigmas. Her glances over a fan, burning him each time they touched him. - For your unsupervised, unauthorised visit to the palace library, perhaps? - He continued, half-amused, half-interested in what lies she might weave.
- This worthless maid came on the orders from her mistress, the Moon-like Princess, - she answered, her eyes lowered to the floor.
- That will do, - he approved, coming close to her, almost touching, - for the guards and for the senior librarian. Me, on the other hand… This section requires written permission signed by me. And i don't remember anything of the sort.
- The orders were urgent, - she still didn't look at him. But her cheeks, which turned a lovely shade of red, and a little smile told him enough. She was lying.
- So much so, that even an eunuch wasn't assigned to help you?
- As Lord Grand Chancellor can see.
- You're blushing, it is so lovely, dear lady, - he whispered in her ear, half hidden by her hair.
He took a step back, thinking. It's not dignified for a tiger to play with butterflies like a house cat. And yet, what's the difference between the two if both have stripes on their fur?
Not to mention, Handmaidens of the Princess were off-limits to anyone. And yet… Those glances over a fan. That smile - slightly mischievous, slightly ashamed. That blush - still on her cheeks. And, especially, her cat-like stubbornness to not admit she was doing something, she was not supposed to do.
He rose up the ladder. - You're lucky i was here, - he said, taking the book. - This one?
She simply nodded and finally, absent-mindedly, fixed her hanfu. Though he couldn't help but wish she had kept it like this - in a slight disarray - for a little bit longer. - Jin, Ping, Mei, - he read the title and decided to look inside, before giving the book to her.
His curiosity was punished immediately. Somehow, he did not expect his eyes to meet with the most frivolous poetry about male "dignity". Followed by even more naughty passages about its female counterpart. - You're blushing, it is so lovely, Lord Grand Chancellor, - mused this little coquette, now fully smiling.
#writing fanfics is a lovely hell#translating them to a foreign language is something else entirely#am i painting illustrations to my fics or writing fics to my artworks#why am i like this
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Sweethearts
pairings: Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
summary: He stares from afar and after months is finally given a chance and he won’t blow it with you when you guys are on a study date.
warnings: no spoilers! way before ghostface! none just pure sweetness and fluff from this sweetboy🫶 Also this is not proofread so if there’s any mistakes i am super sorry!
He’s been watching you for quite some time now form afar.. well not in a weird way but admiring your beauty, and how you didn’t need much to look stunning. His eyes would wander from your eyes to your lips and the way you would reapply your gloss every 15 minutes that went by which felt like forever when he was close or even in the same room as you.
Everyday at exactly 12:15 pm you would walk through the doorway and it would make his heart beat faster threatening to jump out of his chest and his blood would seem to slow and make him dizzy when you passed by to sit in the back row. His cheeks would go flush when he was hit by your signature sweet scent. He accepted the fact that he was utterly in love with a girl way out of his league who would never go for him, but if it meant that he got to see you everyday on campus and in class he would sell his soul.
You couldn’t help but hide the tiny smile that came to your face whenever you walked through that door and saw his cute puppy face sitting in the third to last row in the class. The stare that would linger on you did not go unnoticed by you at all, you knew he had something for you. Truth be told you did too but what’s the fun in telling him now?
You walked by him and sat in the very last row along with some other friends and Chad. Chad was attractive and nice but he wasn’t Ethan. Ethan made you feel things that Chad could never ever make you feel, hell you didn’t even have to talk to Ethan to get those feelings! Your stare diverted from the board down to find the back of Ethan’s head and how he’d look down at his notes every few seconds. Ethan was such a nerd, a cute one though and just the thought of it made you giggle a bit.
When the bell had rung everyone made quick work of shoving papers, books, and binders into their backpacks. You waited outside the the classroom as you waited for Ethan to walk out in order to ask him for help on the test for econ. The familiar scent of musk and vanilla walked passed you and you stopped him by calling for him. “Hey Ethan?!” His head whipped around at the sudden call for his name. He was stunned when he saw you infront of him with a few books and a baby pink notebook with your name written in cursive on the cover in your arms.
“Uhm w-whats up?” He muttered in total shyness and mentally facepalmed himself at the his lame response to the most prettiest girl in the whole world. His cheeks grew a light shade of pink and he could feel his ears begin to warm up. “Do you mind helping me study for the test in econ tomorrow?” Ethan stood frozen in his shoes and gulped back searching for an answer that he already had in his head, Yes! A million times Yes! He wish it was that easy but instead a simple, “Mhm yup.” was given. You awkwardly nodded and led him to the library.
A small wave was given to the little librarian who stood behind the counter all day shushing the jocks who came in to “study” on the computers. Your hand was about to pull back the chair when Ethan beat you to it and pulled it back gesturing you to sit. A smile was shared between the both of you as he pulled out his heavy econ book. The very same one you never stopped by the library to get. “So the test do you have any notes that may help us?” He sounded a bit more bolder and assured about what left his mouth.
You handed him your pink notebook with a pink fluffy pen, noticing the tiny smirk on his face. He opened the book and noticed tiny little hearts written on the corners of the pages some with thinly initials in them. Most had the initials of your name in them but some had E’s in them. Ethan’s eyes grew at the doodles on the corners trying to keep his eyes away from them as you could easily be crushing on some else whose name also begins with an E. He dragged his thick finger down each page skimming through each line and date at the top pages. He looked till finally reaching the newer dates he double tapped the page and handed you the notebook.
“Look through those notes and I will highlight what you should read tonight in the book.” The boy infront of you whispered as he searched his small pocket on his backpack for a highlighter. He noticed how you were actually looking over the notes just like he asked you to. His mind went into a deep hole of other things you’d do if he asked. He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts of you. A soft sigh left your lips and he looked up to see your pen in your mouth. His hand went up to your lips taking the pen from your fingers. “Don’t do that.” Your brows furrowed, “I’m hungry that’s all.”
He huffed and reached into his front jean pockets pulling out a colorful bag of sweetheart candies. He handed you a heart that read “Ur cute” you smiled and looked up at him as you placed the tiny pink heart between your pillowy glossy lips. He searched the small bag for one that specifically read “I like u” handing it over to you your eyes scanned the light blue heart and a smile spread across you face. “Me too.” You whispered softly and his cheeks went a bright pink. “Are you being serious!?” His voice was no longer in a low whisper tone, the librarian shushed him and you giggled lightly. “Shut your mouth Eth!” You whisper yelled with a finger brought up to your lips.
He laughed and looked at you and your gorgeous features and how every single tiny freckle brought more to look at and so did the gloss in your eyes. “Thanks for helping me nerd.” You whispered into his ear and kissed at his warm cheek. Ethan was stunned and at a loss for words. Class was going to be a whole lot better now. And there was no way in hell he was failing you now.
Hope y’all enjoy this i personally love this!!! Also this is my first post and yess!!! love you all!
#ethan landry#scream#scream 6#chad meeks martin#Stabathon#ghostface#ethan landry x reader#study date#library#nerds
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New Beginnings
For @doomfox
Happy (belated) birthday!
This follows An Evening Yule Remember. Not officially 'canon', as I have a different way for them to come together in my verse, but I love the moments leading up to that first hint of romance so any excuse to write Callie x Wade!
(Who is Callie?)
~~~~~
The night was quiet. The Christmas tree lights twinkled in the corner, as a light snow fell outside. New Year’s Eve had rolled around once again, and this year was a special one for the head librarian of Green Hills public library.
Because this year, Callie MacPherson wasn’t spending it all alone, as she had for so many years past. This year, she had two sons and a best friend to ring in the new year with.
At least, that was the plan.
“You people celebrate your planet completing a full rotation around your sun?” Eclipse had said when she had told him and Silver about New Year’s Eve. The darkling lifted an eyebrow ridge, his muzzle twisted in confusion. “That’s dumb. Why do you do that? What’s the big deal? It’s dumb.”
“I think it sounds like fun!” Silver said, bringing his fists to his chest to give an excited shake. “Is there special food? Presents? Oh, are we gonna decorate??”
Callie shook her head. “No special food, no presents, and no decorating necessary, really.”
Eclipse scoffed. “Then what do you do on this holiday?”
“Stay up until midnight and make loud noise to ring in the new year.”
“I’m in.”
That had been a few days ago. All day today the boys had both been so excited, planning to stay up as late as they wanted and blow their little noisemakers Callie had (regretfully) bought them. They had blown them constantly until she made a rule that they could only do it once an hour. She’d never seen Eclipse so focused on the time before.
Wade had arrived a little after six. They shared an easy supper, and played a few card games as the last few hours of the year ticked away.
Now it was a little after eleven, a movie on the TV as Callie and Wade sat on the couch. Both boys were passed out in their laps—Silver in hers, Eclipse in his.
“So much for staying up all night,” she said with a smile. Her hands moved through Silver’s quills in slow strokes. “Best laid plans and all that.”
“They lasted longer than I thought they would,” Wade said, readjusting Eclipse against him. “They were so excited. I thought the adrenaline would carry them longer.”
She gave a little laugh. “Kids are just like that. Silver once fell asleep in the middle of a story he was telling me on the way home from the grocery store.”
“Wow.”
“They play hard, they crash hard.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. “Couldn’t handle the absolute whirlwind of a party I throw here at the ol’ MacPherson house.”
Wade snickered. “The neighbors probably called the station about the noise when Eclipse won that round of Exploding Kittens.”
Callie snorted out a laugh, before clapping a hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to wake her boys. “God, that kid’s got a set of lungs on him.”
“Silver was so mad.”
“He got him back in Uno.”
Wade nodded, a smile on his lips. “He did.” He quieted for a moment. “You’ve got some good kids, Cal.”
Callie nodded, reaching over to run her knuckle over Eclipse’s muzzle. “Yeah. I do.” She smirked. “At least they give me a reason to stay up for New Year’s. Usually I’m in bed by now.”
“You never went out or anything?”
“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Was never close to anyone. Never wanted to be. Fine on my own and all that.”
He watched her, his brow furrowing slightly. “Sounds kinda lonely.”
She shrugged. She never really thought about it. It was just the way things were for her. Every day was like the last, and the next would be just the same. She was alone, but that’s what she wanted. Because she was scared of letting people get close.
And then Silver had literally crash landed in her life, which brought Wade in. Eclipse came a few months later, and now she had a family. Now she wasn’t alone.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes still feel like she was. Late at night, when both boys were in bed and the house was quiet, it was too easy to imagine herself all alone again. It was better when Wade was here, and she tried so hard to tell herself it was because he was distracting her from the quiet. Giving her another adult to chat with while the boys were off doing their kid thing.
Because she really didn’t want to think about the fact that there may be something more at play than simple companionship. That was a road she was terrified to go down.
Wade was her friend. Friendship was easy.
She didn’t want to complicate matters.
“What about you?” she asked, in a not so casual attempt to change the subject. “Any exciting stories from New Year’s Eves past?”
He gave a little laugh that was more sad than jovial. “Nah. I was usually in bed too, unless I was working.” He paused, sitting back to avert his gaze from hers. “Tom and Maddie would invite me over, but . . .” He shrugged. “Sometimes I felt really third wheelish.” He pulled his lips tight. “And no one wants to date the town idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.” It came out immediately, no hesitation. “You’re not.”
Wade shrugged. “I know what people see when they look at me.”
“That’s not what I see when I look at you.”
A silent beat, and when Wade spoke next his voice was soft. “What do you see?”
Callie chewed her cheek. She didn’t want to say things that would sound overly generic as a kind of ‘cheer up, you’re great!’ kind of pick-me-up. He didn’t need cheering up, he needed honesty. He needed a boost to his confidence and to know that he wasn’t the village idiot that so many people—himself included—seemed to see him as.
“I see,” she started, and turned to look at him with narrowed eyes, as though she were truly examining him. “A man who tries his hardest, even though he feels anxious sometimes. I see a man who just wants to help others. Someone who wants to see the good in people, regardless of how they treat him. You are kind, and sweet, and honest, and would give a stranger the shirt off your back if they asked for it.”
She paused, locking eyes with him.
“No, you may not know everything. You may be confused about what’s going on sometimes. But if people look at you and just see that, then they’re the ones who are idiots. Because you, Wade Whipple, are so much more.”
A heavy silence descended over the two then, and they sat on the couch, gaze locked. Callie’s heart pounded in her chest, worrying she’d said too much, or made things really awkward between them now. Was that over the top? Had she gotten too serious? Broken the light mood they usually shared?
She was about to say something snarky to break this awkward silence when he spoke.
“Know what I see when I look at you?”
Her heart raced faster. “What?”
“I see someone who’s braver than she thinks. Someone who claimed she was fine by herself and didn’t need anyone, but took in two lost alien kids and love them like they were her own. Someone who’s kind, and smart, and caring, but takes no bull. You stand up for what’s right, you defend those who are in trouble, and would put yourself in harm’s way to keep others safe.”
He swallowed hard, pulling his lips tight as though wondering if he should continue.
“I see someone who tries to pretend she’s fine. That she doesn’t need help. But she does. I see how she struggles sometimes. I see the hair pulling and how she sometimes just stares off into space when she’s stressed. And I want to help. All she has to do is ask. Because she is so amazing, and she could do anything. And I want her to see that, too.”
Callie’s brain stopped functioning. His words were so heartfelt, his tone so genuine, she couldn’t come up with any kind of response that seemed appropriate. Her knee-jerk reaction was to make a joke, likely a self-depreciating one, or throw out some snark to shift the mood. But she resisted. It didn’t seem right to respond to what he’d said with humor.
But oh how her heart pounded.
They sat there, eyes locked, for a long moment, before an odd look passed over Wade’s face.
“Eclipse is drooling on me.”
It took a moment for the words to sink into Callie’s brain, and when they finally did she blinked, giving him a shocked look.
“Oh! Oh, okay. Let’s get these boogers to bed, huh?”
The two shifted to lift their respective child and headed upstairs to the bedrooms. Callie heaved a tension-relieving sigh. Leave it to Eclipse to break up an awkward moment, even while asleep.
~X~X~X~
Wade followed behind as Callie tucked her boys in, one by one. She settled them into their beds—or hammock, for Eclipse—and kissed their foreheads before tiptoeing out.
Once the boys were snuggled in, the two went back downstairs, and fetched a few drinks from the fridge. Callie kept his favorite beer on hand, and handed him a bottle as she pulled a wine cooler out for herself.
Wade had to admit, he was a little disappointed their conversation had been interrupted. It felt . . . important somehow. Like they were being real with each other. Not that they ever weren’t, but tonight just felt . . . different.
The atmosphere from their previous conversation broken, they chatted about this and that as they settled back on the couch. The TV was turned low, tuned to one of those “Rockin’ New Year’s Eve” countdowns that showed a huge crowed of people in Times Square.
“Now that,” Callie said, pointing with the top of her bottle, “is my idea of hell. All those people, all that noise? No thanks.”
Wade chuckled with a nod. “That’s a lot of people in one place. What if you’re in the middle of that crowd and have to go to the bathroom?”
“Right? No one thinks of those things,” she said, taking a sip. “Not that I understand the desire to go and be in a crowd like that. Just not my thing.”
“Me neither. I like smaller groups better. I don’t think there are that many people even living in Green Hills. I couldn’t imagine being responsible for that many people.”
Callie turned to him, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you always want to be a cop?” she asked, her voice light. “Little Wade Whipple, running around with his little Cracker Jack badge and writing parking tickets for the neighborhood?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. I . . .” He shrugged. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I was a kid. I just knew I wanted to help people. When Tom said he was going to become a police officer, I just kinda followed.”
“Is there anything else you would want to do now? If you were gonna start all over?”
Wade gave that some thought. In all honesty, he couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else. At least right now. He shook his head.
“Nope. I like where I am. I like helping people. And putting on the uniform helps me feel like I’m not just Wade. I’m Deputy Wade. And it makes me feel good.”
“You look damn good in uniform too, if I’m being honest.”
Wade looked over at her with wide eyes, and found her frozen, her eyes just as wide. She had apparently not realized what she said was out loud. A blush burned her cheeks, and she flicked her eyes from his to the drink in her hand.
“Hoo boy,” she said, a little nervous laugh in her voice. “I’m such a lightweight! Half a wine cooler in and it’s already gone to my head!” She laughed slightly, before clearing her throat into her fist. “You hungry? I’m hungry. I’m gonna grab some food.”
She was up before he responded, heading for the kitchen where he heard her pour some chips in a bowl. Her comment rang in his ears. Was that . . . ? Did she . . . ?
Wade wasn’t good with subtlety. It seemed like maybe there was something more in what she’d said, but it could have also been his imagination. People sometimes just blurted things out without thinking. Inappropriate things, snarky comebacks that are meant as jokes, that kinda stuff. And Callie was pretty snarky normally, so . . .
He tried to just ignore it.
“So what about you?” he asked as she came back in with the bowl. He snagged a few chips when she sat back down. “Did you always want to be a librarian?”
A little amused smile curled her lips, but he noted that the blush was still there. “While I’ve always loved books and learning and such, being a librarian wasn’t what I dreamt about when I was a little girl. This just kinda fell in my lap. It plays to my highly organized mind, and lets me help people in a more casual way than some official position.”
“So what did you dream about as a little girl?”
The blush on her cheeks burned hotter. “You’ll laugh.”
He smiled. “Promise I won’t.”
She flicked her eyes to his, before uttering a soft sigh. “I always wanted to be a dancer.”
Wade’s smile softened. “A dancer?”
She nodded, and when she spoke next her voice was soft. “I would see women on TV dancing, and always thought they looked so graceful. Ballet, jazz, tap, whatever. They moved their bodies so smoothly and beautifully. I always wanted to learn to do that, too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
A smirk pulled Callie’s lips and she gave a little laugh. “The unfortunate affliction known as ‘two left feet’. I don’t know what it is but I can’t dance to save my life. I trip and stagger and just make a fool of myself.”
He smiled and shrugged. “I can teach you.”
She gave him a look. “Doubtful. I am unteachable.”
“Nah, I don’t believe that.” Wade pulled out his phone and pulled up a slow tempo song, before placing it on the table and pushing himself to his feet. He held his hand out to her. “C’mon. It’s not that hard.”
“You’re serious.”
He nodded. “I’m serious. C’mon. Dance with me.”
Her blush flared hotter. Flicking her eyes between his offered hand and his face, Callie slowly reached up and placed her hand in his. Wade pulled her to her feet, pulling her gently in to lay a hand on her back.
A blush rushed to his face at the proximity, the closeness and feel of her against him. He cleared his throat, his voice soft. “Just listen to the music, and follow my lead.”
She nodded, and that blush never left her cheeks. It made her eyes look especially pretty, and Wade stumbled for a step or two before finding the right rhythm as he led her in a slow waltz.
He had to admit, she was right. She couldn’t dance. She tripped over her own feet, stepped on his, and nearly made them both topple over when she stepped the wrong way in a turn.
But they were both laughing.
They played through the song three times, and each time she seemed to get worse.
“Are you being this bad on purpose?” he laughed after the third try. “You only have two feet, you know. It’s not that hard to keep track of them!”
Callie responded with a laugh and little slap to his shoulder. “I told you! Woefully uncoordinated, that’s me. Hopeless lost cause. Quit while you still have feeling in your toes.”
Feeling confident, Wade pulled her back to him, a little smirk on his lips. “Never! I will teach you to dance, or die trying!”
She snorted out a laugh, bringing a hand to her forehead in a dramatic flare. “Oh, poor Wade Whipple! Done in by his own stubborn insistence to teach the waltz to someone with the grace of a drunken ostrich. Oh, he will be missed.”
Wade laughed with her, but tightened his arm around her. “Seriously, you’re overthinking this.”
She gave him a look. “I’m sorry, have you met me? Overthinking is practically my middle name.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “Well, tell your brain to take the night off. Listen to the music. Feel the rhythm. And for crying out loud, let me lead! You’re fighting me and making things worse.”
“Ugh! Fine.” She gave herself a little shake and blew out a sigh. “Okay. One more time.”
~X~X~X~
They quieted, letting the music fill the living room, flowing over them in smooth tones. Wade pulled her close again, his hand resting on the middle of her back. His hand around hers was so warm and soft.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the music. On the rhythm. As she did, something seemed to slip into place in her mind. They were no longer separate notes, they merged together to form a line. A path. She stepped on his toes twice, but then found her footing so to speak, and moved and swayed with him as he guided them along.
This was nice. Feeling his arm around her. His breath on her neck. The heat of his body as they danced. Although she received plenty of hugs from her boys, this was different. This made her feel . . . safe. Comfortable.
Callie opened her eyes and looked up at him. He caught her gaze, the two were frozen in time, in this moment. The hand on her back slipped lower, coming to rest above her waist. A little pressure and she was pulled closer to him, their bodies touching.
A blush ran up his neck, warming his face and ears. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Behind them on the TV, the crowd in Times Square were counting down.
10!
Their feet slowed.
9!
Wade turned them, so that the light from the Christmas tree caught in her eyes.
8!
She swallowed. Hard.
7!
The hand holding hers tightened slightly.
6!
Her free hand slid from his arm to his waist.
5!
He licked his lips.
4!
Her lips parted.
3!
He leaned forward.
2!
She tilted her head to the side.
1!
Happy New Year!
Their eyes closed.
Their lips met.
They were both trembling. Callie’s heart beat a manic pace in her chest, and she felt as though it were trying to burst through her rib cage and escape. Wade pulled her closer, and she felt his pounding just as hard.
But they did not pull away.
The world welcomed the new year in around them, and Wade and Callie stayed locked in their embrace. In their kiss. Their first kiss.
It was awkward and wonderful and terrifying and so, so gentle.
When they pulled back, they held each other to combat the tremble that still shook them both. Their eyes locked, and Callie opened her mouth to say something.
And that’s when an ear-piercing sound split the air.
“Happy New Year!” Eclipse called as he and Silver bounded down the stairs. Each held their noise makers and blew them as they rushed toward the couple.
Wade and Callie quickly released each other, stepping back just as each was hit with one alien child.
“You almost let us sleep through it!” Silver said, giving Callie a hug around the neck. “We almost missed it!”
“Yeah,” she said, her mind still not fully functioning. “S-sorry. You guys fell asleep.”
“Good thing I woke up!” Eclipse laughed, blowing his noisemaker again. “Nice job going around the sun, Earth!”
“Yeah, nice job!” Silver echoed.
“I wonder what will happen this year,” Eclipse said, hanging off of Wade’s shoulders. “Something exciting, I hope!”
Silver shrugged. “Last year I came to Earth and found a new family. Maybe this year will be even better!”
Callie and Wade exchanged a glance over the boys’ heads. The ghost of their blushes still warmed their cheeks, and they shared a small smile.
“Yeah,” Callie said, her blush warming again. “Maybe it will be.”
#writing gift#sonic fanfiction#sonic the hedgehog fanfiction#callie x wade#callie macpherson#wade whipple#silver the hedgehog#eclipse the darkling
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Hi Zero!! I have three questions for you from my sleep deprived brain before I'm now finally going to bed:
Do you ever feel like you shouldn't make a piece of art/write something, because it's "too cliche" or "not artistic enough"?
Do you prefer to write really long sentences with lots of commas, or short sentences whenever possible (may depend upon genre)?
And do you have a neutral moment in your life that you think back to often?
(For example, I was at my friend's house once and I was talking about how I was always trying to make my assignments fun for me to write, and she asked me "Does everything have to be fun?", and for whatever reason, I think about that a lot.)
I like your blog, and I hope you have an amazing day :))
hello nemusnail! thank you for the ask, and welcome to my blog. It's fun interacting with others on here.
as for your questions!!
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1. I have, and still do struggle with the following.
but think of it this way, you're reading fanfiction, and think of your favorite trope. slow burn? that's too vague. what if you wanted a college AU where your favorite ship first meet in the library. one a part-time librarian at work. when the other approaches them and asks where to locate a certain textbook. holding out their hand, they had the book code penned in ink on their palm. and it turns out the librarian was holding the book the other was in search of.
only to dig everywhere to find nothing of the like.
so, in truth, whether it be writing or other artistic mediums, there is no way to be, 'too cliche' or the like. because at the end of the day, you're creating for you. not for the public eye.
(unless you go about sharing your work).
I journal, and for years, and I mean years, I never wrote to the full extent of what I was feeling because what if someone read my journal? would they think I'm interesting enough?
so, at the end of the day, create for yourself. art is a reflection of the soul.
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2. I tend to write really long sentences with lots of commas. but short can also hold a great deal of weight. I often use shorter sentences when I'm writing, say, a character pleading for their life.
truly does depend on the genre and what's happening in the scene.
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3. I'm unsure if I am interpreting what you mean by 'neutral moment' wrongly. I'm thinking of it like, when someone says something to you that makes everything, even time, seemingly stop. not for others, but it stopped for you.
but this is what I thought of.
my past isn't the best. a lot of shit went down and still goes down to this day. but there was this one moment in particular.
on my page, you'd see I vent about various things. I had recently gotten out of a foster home, I had exposed the s@ all 3 of my cousins put me through and how manipulative my aunt is, my attempt to escape my house. all it is is reminders, and I can't heal if I'm constantly surrounded by reminders.
but that's not the moment. I was spending my first weekend back home up at my grandma mother's with my guy friend, who she took in as a foster cause he had nowhere and he turned 18 in just months.
I don't remember exactly how it all was cause I genuinely was losing it. but my grandma said something while talking to me, something about me having made up 'all those lies'.
fast forward through a breakdown, my grandma came into the living room, I was crying; obviously. and my guy friend was going off on her. she eventually turned her attention back to me and told me to look her in the eyes and say it was all true. she said something about how then she'll believe me.
I still can't believe I fell for that. 💀
I did as she said. she looked into my eyes and said she didn't believe me. there's more to it, but that was the moment I thought of. my love for her died that night, and I still vividly remember how this cool calm washed over me. It felt like I disconnected.
sorry if the last one is a little dark.. I easily misinterpret things, and this is the closest to what i thought a neutral moment.
#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writers and poets#writer advice#writers of tumblr#authors of tumblr#poets on tumblr#writer stuff#literature#lit#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#spilled words#spilled feelings#spilled writing#spilled poetry#send asks#ask me anything#writers corner#books & libraries
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Moonie Diary 002
The past week I felt awful. Like just awful. But I decided I'd just do what I want - which is one of the things I want to keep doing, moving forward with my life.
So I decided I'd leave the book club I'm in at my library. It's not the vibe and hasn't been for a minute. I'm Trinidadian, and to shed more light on local authors, we decided to read books written by these people. But I read to escape, not relive social studies and history class in primary school - and these local authors write about post-colonialism Trinidad, being an adult in the 1980s, and what feels like Caribbean trauma in a nutshell. I'm sorry but my parents told me about those times; I have no interest in remembering what Trinidad was like. I came to escape, and instead, you've reminded me of a past hell that no longer exists.
Not only that, the era that I live in now is a world of people actually being successful in their chosen endeavors - whether that's career, family, found family, travel, fashion, etc. I would rather focus on living a life where I have what I want not reinstate the demons of old. So we read four or five of those books before we switched because I could not sit down to read another local author.
Additionally, the librarian hosting it left the library, leaving it in the hands of someone who had less time to manage the book club. She hosted it every two months. Also, by November it was only me and one other person attending for some strange reason. So the books weren't good, I couldn't socialize because one other person was attending, and the whole thing was super inconsistent so I was like, yeah this isn't for me. I still have to tell the host that I'm leaving, and that I won't be going to the library as often, but next week for that.
I did get A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas from a friend, so I'm pretty excited about that. I'm almost done and I'm not sure what to think of it. It's a Beauty and the Beast fanfiction, which I'm all for because Belle is my favorite Disney princess, but I think there's supposed to be political intrigue in there, and miss ma'am is also in love with someone already, but another person popped up. I also find none of these high fae attractive, but that could be because black men are all I can think about. I did the whole high elf/high fae stuff back in secondary school and now I want every other skin tone you can find on this planet to fall in love with. So yeah. I should finish it sometime next week.
I also started posting playlists on YT because I got it in my head to do so. The first two playlists were Vocaloid music, and the one I'm working on right now is Fushigi Yuugi based because it's a great anime with a lot of great music. Actually, I want to walk to the slowed version of the theme song at my wedding. It's also the anime that got me into anime.
Manifestations: movement with my SP, and I got money out of the blue.
Songs I've been listening to: Dr. Tony Tony Chopper (this is absolute crack, and one of my favorite types of things because it creates a new level of immersion for the viewer. also, the song is just really good. Luffy's VA is the GOAT)
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How would Snape react to his partner sitting on his lap unexpectedly?
the urge to sit on this man's lap is astronomical. i was just going to do a short reaction to this but decided to write a mini oneshot instead 😌
summary: spending time with your boyfriend at spinner's end means reading with each other and you trying to make your way onto his lap.
warnings: a suggestive conversation ensues
genre: fluff
link to masterlist
you sat across from your boyfriend in a weathered yet comfortable armchair, a book propped open on your lap. the fireplace was on, warming the living room and keeping the cold out of the house.
every christmas break, you and snape would go to spinner's end. he needed to get away from hogwarts to get his mind off of the stresses of being a teacher, so spinner's end was his place to go, especially because all of his favorite books and newspapers were there.
you and snape both shared a deep love for reading, which had brought the two of you together in the first place. you were the new librarian at hogwarts and snape often came in to get textbooks and other needed materials for his students.
every time he came in, the two of you would talk about whatever you and him were currently reading. these weekly bonding moments eventually became something more (at one point, you became convinced that snape was just dropping by the library to see you).
snape sat in the armchair opposite yours, the daily prophet open in his hands. you slowly closed your book and placed it down on the coffee table, your eyes slowly traveling up and down your boyfriend's body.
snape was a big cuddler, which surprised you the first time that you found out, considering that you always assumed that he was the type of person to refuse any and all physical affection. the first time you and him cuddled, though, he refused to let you go, resting his head on your chest while you stroked his hair and told him all about your day.
you became as needy for cuddles as he was, which prompted you to desire something else; you wanted to sit on his lap. you'd never done it before and you craved the feeling of curling up on his lap and snuggling against him until the two of you fell asleep.
you stood up and walked towards snape with an innocent smile. he looked up from his newspaper, flicking it down and softly asking you, "do you need something, my love?"
you didn't say anything, simply turning around and plopping your ass right onto his lap. snape made a strange little sound, something between a gasp and a moan, before he gently gripped your hips.
"what are you doing, y/n?" he quietly asked you, biting his lip as he stared at the back of your head.
"just sitting on your lap," you giggled, turning your head to look at him. "is that okay?"
you gave your hips a slow rock, causing snape to hiss and grip them harder. "yes, as long as you stay still," he mumbled, his cheeks quickly turning pink.
"and why should i stay still?" you teased. snape rolled his eyes and snaked an arm around your front, pulling you flush against his chest.
"you know why. don't be a tease," he sternly warned you, giving your cheek a firm kiss. "actually, it's quite comfortable with you sitting here on my lap."
"it'll be even more comfortable with me sitting on your dick."
"y/n!"
you giggled again and kissed him. "i was just kidding, sev. unless..." you wiggled your eyebrows at him. "but for now, i just want to be wholesome with you."
snape let go of your hips, motioning for you to stand. you did, watching him put the newspaper to the side before he patted his lap. you quickly sat, straddling him as you cuddled him and sighed happily.
"this is so nice," you smiled up at him as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "i wanna surgically attach myself to your lap."
snape made a shocked face at your words. "y/n, that's weird."
you snorted and pressed a kiss to his neck, replying, "fine, it is a little weird. i just love sitting on your lap so much. you're so cozy."
snape fondly smiled down at you, kissing your forehead repeatedly before saying, "i love you a lot, you know."
"i love you too, you know," you mused, looking down at yours and snape's conjoined hands.
"that, i do know," snape happily said as his smile grew. "and i am glad to know."
#severus snape#snape content#snape love#snape imagines#snape one shot#professor snape#snape fanart#snape fanfiction#snape fic#hogwarts#snape x y/n#snape x you#snape defense#snape community#anti snaters#pro severus snape#severus art#snape x reader#snape
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